Lame Deer, MT
by marakparker
Summary: Seriously, Lame Deer Montana? You'd need to fly to Antarctica to escape this guy. Oh, humor me, I'd probably need to go to the moon. One Summer. Susannah and Paul. Creating Hell Together. Problem is, hell on earth starts fires. Try not to get burned...
1. Chapter 1

Paul grinned, white teeth flashing.

Oh, perfect. Just when I thought this would be the last place I would ever see him.

Lame Deer Montana.

"Hey Suze," He smirked, "Miss me?"

"Hardly," I snapped, getting up. "What the hell are you doing here Paul?"

"What are you?" He replied coolly, ice blue eyes piercing.

"Actually," I said carefully, "I'm on a trip to see my uncle."

"So you didn't follow me here? I was so flattered." He grinned, putting a hand to his heart mockingly.

What CAN you say to that sort of thing?

I rolled my eyes.

"Hey, I like your hair," He said suddenly, reaching forward to catch a lock between his fingers. I'd grown it out over the summer months, and today it was swept to one side, the ends curling loosely without the aid of my beloved straightener (which I'd stupidly forgotten to pack).

"Um, thanks." I looked away quickly.

He sighed, dropping my hair.

I sighed in obvious relief.

"How's Rico Suave?" He asked politely, a harsh edge beneath his tone, "Still as breathless over you?"

We both knew the double meaning.

I glared at him. "We're fine, thank you."

"Just asking," He said, still politely disinterested. He turned his face away from me, reaching up his hands to run through his hair.

"Yeah, well, I have to go." I shrugged, pulling my new Coach bag on to my shoulder. I'd found it in TJ Max, half off- and so cute even Jesse complimented it. Jesse…

"Wait," He said, reaching out to catch my arm, he grinned wickedly. "Don't you want to know why I'm here?"

What was it with grabbing my arm? I tried to shrug out of his grasp, but he didn't even seem to notice.

Key word: Seem.

I sigh- I'm just trying to make myself feel better.

So, fine. OK, he didn't bat an eyelid.

"Not really," I replied, glancing down at his grip on my arm. "I swear you have spacial issues."

"Maybe," He looked down at me, and I suddenly realized how very CLOSE he was. What was it with this guy? He was making the blood in my veins run cold- but in which sense he was constantly reassuring me was confused. Was I afraid of him? Or attracted?

Or…a strange combination of both?

I seriously needed to fly to Antartica to get away from him.

Oh humor me- I'd probably have to go to the moon.

"It's been a long summer, Suze," He whispered. "And," He hesitated, cocking his head at me, "Rico Suave doesn't have to know."

I glanced away, unsure of whether to slap him or just lash with words.

He tilted my face up to his with one of his fingers, oddly gentle.

"Suze," His eyes burned with that one emotion I could never get down.

Passionate? Troubled? Concerned? Longing? Or…love?

His lips met mine before I could even get the thoughts flowing in the correct pattern in my head. Oh no- my thoughts were all messed up. They weren't centering around escaping him. They were centering around the way his eyes were so bright they almost glowed, and his flawless tan, deepened to an even darker shade with the summer, and his glossy black curls, which just brushed my cheek.

And when his lips met mine,

I lost whatever it was that was scared. That was upset.

I kissed him back.


	2. To Choose

I felt myself slipping away- as if any love for Jesse was slowly being melted away with the Suze who'd have normally broken this guy's jaw.

He was the one to break it off first.

He grinned, "I knew it."

"Knew what?" I asked, still dazed.

"You play a hard game, Suze, but in the end you want me just as much as I want you." He was slightly smug.

"Paul," I shook my head, "What about…"

"Oh, your dead beloved." His eyes flashed. "As I said, I see know reason why he has to know." He smiled, brushing my hair back from my face.

I shook my head. "I'm not talking about Jesse."

His face darkened, a powerful change in his normally impassive, or otherwise smirking face. "There's someone else?"

"No," I paused before laughing at his assumption, "I missed my bus."

His forehead relaxed, creases fading back into smooth, flawless skin.

"That's fine then," He shrugged, "I'll drive you."

"You brought your car?" I tried to imagine Paul driving his glossy BMW on a road expedition- and failed miserably.

"No, you still haven't asked why I'm here."

"Yes, actually, I have."

He shrugged nonchalantly, looking past me towards the great expanse of bland Montana fields- lush, green, and endlessly boring.

"My grandfather died. I'm here to visit my uncle."

"Who's also a millionaire?" I guessed shewdly.

He shrugged.

"God Paul," I shook my head, "You're so greedy."

He shrugged again, "I'm hurt."

The contrast between his tone and his words made me roll my eyes.

I didn't even notice we'd been walking, so when he held a shiny black hummer door open for me, I looked up at it blankly.

"Your uncle bought you a car?" I asked in disbelief, staring up at it.

"Conspicuous, isn't it?" He grinned.

I climbed up into the seat.

He slammed the door, appearing on the other side of the car within seconds. Opening the door, he pulled himself in.

"I can't believe I'm doing this," I muttered.

He revved the engine like a reply.

"When did you decide anyway?" He asked, and from his tone I knew he was referring to our kiss.

"I didn't." I said flatly. That indescribable buzz, that high- light feeling that I couldn't seem to escape when Paul kissed me had started to fade, leaving some very uncomfortable thoughts.

He turned on me suddenly, eyes incredulous. "Don't tell me you changed your mind."

I shrugged, "Who ever said I made up my mind?- But seriously, relax before you give yourself a hemorrhage."

He frowned, turning back to the road.

"It's just," I sighed, "Jesse does exist."

"That could be changed," He said darkly.

I stared at him, eyes wide.

He registered my expression. "What?" He asked boredly.

"I thought we had a deal."

"I thought we were over your ghost anyway."

"I don't want him to die!"

Paul turned towards me, smirking.

"You KNOW what I mean!"

"Fine," He looked towards the darkening road. "It was just a suggestion."

"I don't like your suggestions." I grumbled.

There was silence, the minutes ticked by, and I knew Uncle Barry was probably having a heart attack. I was supposed to have been there an hour ago.

"Are you going to tell him?"

I knew this was coming.

I was starting to get the feeling I was the last person to know that there was any competition at all. All I knew was, I certainly wasn't in any mood to choose. Especially, since, well, I had a boyfriend. Sure, he was dead and all, but I liked him. A lot. So one kiss happened….with, ugh.

Paul Slater.

But still. Why ruin a perfectly wonderful love if I don't have to?

Because, despite losing my loyalty to him for those brief seconds I still loved Jesse.

"I think it's on the left," I commanded, and he turned.

"Well?"

I sighed. "I don't know, Paul."

His jaw set.

"Why?"

"You know I still love Jesse," I hesitated and Paul visibly became more rigid in his seat, "But I'm unsure about what's going to happen now."

"Suze," He stopped the car, his blue eyes like daggers. "You can't do this forever." He stopped, before he continued, his voice silky, "You know that there's something unresolved between us, don't you Suze?"

I stared at him, unable to respond.

"So why not just have a little fun," He grinned. "It's the summer."

"Because you're not my idea of fun." I snapped.

"Is that why you kissed me like that?" He asked smugly.

And as I opened my mouth, I realized I didn't have an answer.


	3. Rivalry

Aunt Maria was the first to answer the door, but probably only because her main diet didn't consist of potato chips, the occasional deluxe pizza, coke, and beer.

Yes, I would say Uncle Barry was definitely slower to his feet.

Aunt Maria glanced behind me, noting the hummer.

When Paul got out, understanding, scornful understanding, passed over her face.

Paul grinned, shaking her hand. "Hello Ms. Simon."

She looked him over, glancing back at me inquiringly, pencil eyebrows raised. I shrugged.

"Please, call me Maria," She said, turning back to face him, her face melting into the gregarious hostess.

"Paul, Paul Slater." He grinned, flashing his white teeth in that self assured charm.

She looked slightly dazzled. As dazzled as Aunt Maria could possibly be, anyway. She looked at me again, only this time she looked a little dazed.

"Maria!" Uncle Barry's voice rocketed through the house, rumbling the floor. "She's here?"

"Yes!" She yelled back.

"I'll be right down!"

"OK!"

Maria turned to us, face complete undazzled by now. "It might be awhile till he actually makes it down here- but won't you come in and have dinner with us?" She asked Paul, but it was obvious she wanted nothing but him to leave so she could interrogate me about every aspect about my new "boyfriend".

But maybe he sensed that too, because, turning to shoot me a 'good luck' grin, he replied, "No, actually, my uncle wants me home too."

"Oh," Her tone was sugary and rushed- I wish she could make it a little less clear how much she was ready to get him out. "Who's your Uncle, dear?"

"Denis Washington." He said politely, shrugging.

She stared at him. Soon the astounded stare changed to a furious glare. He backed away a few steps, hands raised, "Hey lady," He murmured.

I stared at her, completely shocked, and even more so embarassed.

"Why don't you go and set up your things in the room, Susannah. Bye Paul." She said tartly, slamming the door in his face.

I shook my head, incredulous. "What was that about?"

"Go set up your things."

"Not until you explain why you just slammed the door in his face." I replied, tone like steel. I was usually beyond 'sweet little neice' to both of them- but this was ridiculous.

She turned to glance at me, mouth set in a sort of frenzied anger.

"Do your uncle and I a favor, and don't ever go and see that boy again." She commanded me, "And no where near his uncle." She added in a quiet murmur I wasn't supposed to hear.

She walked away quickly before I could say anything else.

My cell phone hummed in my pocket. I glanced at it.

School calling, my screen read.

I flipped it open.

"Hello?"

"Querida."

My breath caught in my throat. "Jesse!" I cried, thrilled, losing all thoughts of my Aunt, her strange behavior, and least of all Paul Slater.

"You made it." He sounded obviously relieved, and I rolled my eyes.

"I know, I know, it's a miracle I made it to Lame Deer Montana without a terrorist bombing my plane."

He ignored my sarcasm. "How is your family?"

"Fine, just fine," I replied automatically, "You?"

"My family?" He sounded confused, and slightly sad.

"NO- how are YOU?"

He sighed. "I'm fine, Susannah."

"Good."

"Yes- I'm so sorry I couldn't come with you." He sounded honestly sorry, and I was completely perplexed.

"WHY- I'm going to be fine, Jesse."

"I have no doubt you can take care of yourself Querida," He sounded bemused, "I'm just sorry I can't BE with you."

"Oh," I breathed. My heart was warmer than ever. "Me too."

"I'm going to miss you," He told me, before sighing again. "I believe the phone would look strange if it was suspended in the air- and Sister Ernestine is approaching."

"Yeah," I said unhappily, "It would look a little…strange."

"I love you," He whispered into the phone.

He disconnected before I could reply.

I stood, disoriented in the hallway, for several minutes.

"Almost done?" Maria shouted through the house.

"What?" I yelled back, snapping out my daze.

"Done unpacking?'

"OH- wait a minute!" I shouted back to her, dashing up the stairs.

After ten minutes of taking out all my clothes, I collasped on the bed, exaughsted. It'd been a long day, and I was tired.

That night, I kept dreaming that my heart had been somehow disconnected from my chest, and was suspended, blood and all, in the sky. Two birds, one blue eyed and and one black eyed, circled it, waiting to swoop.

I stood below my heart, staring up at the competing birds helplessly.


	4. Just You

I woke up to the buzz of my phone, still lying in my hand.

I glanced groggily at the screen, irritated and totally out of it.

I didn't recognize the number, but I flipped it open anyway, prepared to yell at whoever was rude enough to call at- I glanced at the clock. Ten o clock!

God, never mind…

"Hello?"

"Hey Suze,"

I felt the unaccustomed guilt rise in my stomach. "Hey Paul," I replied, a little uneasy, "Hey, um, how'd you get my number?"

I could hear the shrug in his voice. "I told you I liked you."

"You stalked me?" I asked, somewhat sarcastic, somewhat unsurprised.

"I wouldn't say that," He said coolly, "I would say your friends are easily pursuaded."

"Cee Cee?" I demanded, a little angry.

"Now now," His voice was low, "I won't reveal my sources."

"Paul!" I complained, "You don't say things like that and not tell me who it was- it was Debbie wasn't it?"

He was silent for a little too long.

"HA!" I cried, triumphant.

"I'm so happy for you- what a fantastic discovery." He said, his voice bitter with sarcasm.

"Shut up," I said, happy for myself.

"I'll have to talk to her…" I grumbled after a moment of short lived joy.

"I'm genuinely sorry for her," He informed me, though I knew he was looking forward to it.

"Sure."

"Why was your Aunt so…" He said after a moment, changing the subject.

I sighed. "IDK, I don't think she likes your uncle."

He snorted, "You think?"

"Yes." I replied, ignoring him, "I couldn't get her to tell me though." I sighed.

"Yeah, well," I could hear his shrug in his tone, "She IS a redhead. Stubborn."

"Not naturally," I declared, "She's actually blonde."

"In that case- she probably doesn't remember WHY she hates my uncle."

I shook my head, disgusted. "You're so rude- I wonder why I ever put up with you."

"Because," He replied, "I'm irresistable." He said it coolly, matter o' factly, like it was obvious.

I rolled my eyes, irritated.

"Well, congrats Paul, you've officially proven yourself an ego case."

I reached for the end button.

"Wait!"

I waited.

"I'm sorry," He said the words slowly, as if he was unaccustomed to them, "If I offended you."

"Whatever."

"God- will you ever stop trying to convince yourself we don't belong together?"

"What does that have to do with ANYTHING?"

"Every time we get close, you manage to pull off an argument."

"Maybe we aren't meant for eachother at all anyway," I said defensively. "It's not like it's just me!"

"But it IS just you- you're afraid, Suze, and don't even bother trying to deny it. You like me. Stop trying to make yourself see otherwise."

"I'm NOT!" I protested.

"Suze, face it. You and I just work."

"It was one kiss, Paul- and obviously a HUGE mistake-"

"But it wasn't just one kiss," His voice was silky, furious. "It's been there since the beginning."

"I don't think it's fair to Jesse if-"

He laughed then, loud and harsh.

"Oh, so it's still about your ghost."

"I was SAYING- it's not fair anyway to Jesse. I don't want to hurt him."

"This doesn't have to be about Jesse, Suze." His tone was alluring. "Just me…and you."

I took a deep breath. "I seriously don't think that's a good idea."

"And why not?"

"BECAUSE- I just don't want to be with you after all- all we do is fight!"

There was silence.

"When will you ever just accept it?" He asked me.

"There's nothing to accept!" I snapped.

Once again, silence washed over us like a wave.

"One of these days, Suze." He promised.

The phone line disconnected.

I stared blankly ahead, faced with dismal thoughts.


	5. Hatred & Love Have Common Passion

I grumbled incoherently as I made my way down the stairs, pulling my hair up into a messy pony and grabbing my purse. I had no intention of just sitting in this house all day. White light flooding through the windows, I threw a hand over my eyes just as the door opened, a mess of inky black hair appearing through the brightness. "Susannah." Uncle Barry called from the couch. "Who is it?"

Next came those brilliant sapphire blue eyes, intent on only my face as he come closer, shutting the door behind him.

"Nobody." I said back after a moment. "Uncle Barry?"

"Yeah?"

"I'm going out for a bit. I'll be back in a few hours."

"Okay." His voice was vague, uninterested. There was definitely a football game on.

Paul took my arm, pulling me back outside. Still unused to the light, I pulled my giant tortoiseshell sunglasses out of my bag and slipped them on. Finally, I turned to Paul, furious. "Are you crazy?" I demanded, before I thought better of it. "No, actually, I already know the answer to that."

"You said for a few hours back there," He ignored my words, smiling crookedly, "What exactly were you thinking would take so long?"

I resisted the urge to smack that stupid smirk right off his face. "You are just a bullet point of a list of things I'm planning on-"

"Doing today?"

I snorted. "You wish."

"You're right," He leaned back on the column next to the door. "I do."

"Well you better wake up from your fantasy," I rolled my eyes, "Because you have been deluded for way too long."

"Fantasy," He pondered over the word, "You know, I think that its really quite closer to reality. That kiss…"

"Was a momentary act of stupidity."

"Of weakness." He whispered, coming closer to me. "And one of these days you're just going to give in."

"Paul Slater," I said, knowing what I was about to do was a little bit risky, taking his belt loops and pulling him closer so that my lips were a centimeter from his. What I was waiting for happened instantly- There it was- that flash in his eyes. Just as his lips came closer to mine, I said, "There is no way that this is in any way tempting to me."

And I let loose of him, but he grabbed me, so hard that I winced, and his eyes were so icily frigid a small shiver ran up my spine.

Sometimes I forgot the darkness in Paul.

"You lie so hard that you almost believe it." He said in a low, searingly murderous tone, "But I'm tired of your teasing." And with that he turned his back on me, striding out of the lot. I sighed, rubbing my arms, attempting to calm my goosebumps. But nothing could.

_This is good, maybe he gave up finally,_ I reminded myself weakly, but as his car pulled out of the lot, all I could feel was the empty pit growing in my stomach.


	6. Furthering Suspicions

That night, I pushed Aunt Maria's soup around with my spoon, despite the delicious aroma rising from the dish. She eyed me suspiciously from across the table, but Uncle Barry remained oblivious, too busy shoveling as much as humanly possible into his mouth. I sighed.

"Is it _that_ boy?" Aunt Maria finally snapped.

I looked up, glancing warily at the red-faced woman opposite me.

"What boy?" Uncle Barry mumbled from his spoon.

"Barry." Aunt Maria said with a severity I was starting to question. God, what about him or his family did they hate so much? It made me defensive, though Paul in no way belonged to me nor was it my duty to protect him from my relatives.

"That boy," She continued, dropping to a conspiratorial whisper, "Is Denis Washington's nephew."

Soup spewed out my Uncle mouth. Ew. Gross. I fluffed my hair. Whatever this was it was causing the most disgusting reaction I'd ever seen. His thinning fine silver hair seemed to stand up and his ruddy complexion turned a deep purple. His blue eyes stuck right out of his head, goggling like a giant frog. His fist slammed down on the table, sending what little was left of his soup flying all over me.

I cried, getting to my feet. I surveyed the damage, five large stains were splattered against my cute baby doll silk T, Dolce and Gabbana and extraordinarily expensive. I scoffed. "Do you know how much this costs?" I couldn't hide the distress from my voice. I 'd saved four months for this shirt.

"Denis WASHINGTON?" He roared. "What in the hell are you doin' with his boy?"

"His nephew." I grumbled.

He stared at me. "You are NEVER to see him again. They're a big family of lying , manipulative god-damn assholes." His western accent overwhelmed his words.

Oh, I know.

"Yeah, well, I don't even see him anymore." I admitted, realizing how true it was.

"A pretty girl like you ain't needin no Washingtons around here," Aunt Maria chided.

"He's a Slater, Aunt Maria." I said. Which might actually be worse.

"As long as he's bein' related," Uncle Barry snarled, "You stay da hell away from that boy."

"Yeah, well, knowing Paul, you should be more worried about him coming to see me."

He growled. "I know how to deal with 'em. You just tell me next time he's botherin' you. What's 'is name?"

"Paul." The name sent shivers down my spine, and my stomach flipped nervously. His blue eyes appeared in my mind, as terrifying as they were beautiful, and despite my efforts to push the image away, I couldn't shake it.

"Paul." He grunted, before getting up, leaving his dishes at the table.

I looked at my aunt. "What is the deal anyway?"

"Family history," She said darkly. "Don't go messing with that boy Susannah."

I nodded. I had no plans in the near future to ever see Paul again. But somehow, I knew that I would. And the idea didn't repulse me the way it should. My phone buzzed in my pocket, and my heart skipped a beat as I pulled it out. Maybe-

_Jesse Calling!_

The words on the screen stared back at me, and I felt my hopes sink. Before I knew what I was doing, I'd pressed the ignore button.

Something was changing, but in what direction the storm was moving towards, I had no clue. Damn it. Why did he have to have kissed me like that?


	7. Conditions

When I woke up, Jesse was calling me again.

"Susannah," He said when I answered.

"Jesse," I sighed, still half asleep. I was so sick of blue eyes haunting my mind. What I really needed were some smoldering black ones, so full of love and comfort that I didn't have to feel that edge. What had I been thinking? Jesse was so perfect and wonderful- his kisses, his love were what I wanted.

"I miss you," He told me. "When are you coming home?"

My toes curled as the bubbliness rose in my chest. I pulled the blankets tighter around me. "I miss you too, things have been too weird without you." Way weird. "I think I'm back in three weeks or so."

"Too long," Jesse sighed. "What is it you mean by weird?"

"Um, nothing I guess. How's the cat?"

"Spike is fine." He sounded agitated. "Susannah you're hiding something from me."

"Oh, so he hasn't missed me at all?" I joked weakly. Spike in no way had extended any affection since the first day I met him.

"Querida," His voice turned to liquid honey, "Tell me what's wrong." He'd figured out recently I couldn't resist this voice. And he'd been using it.

I couldn't tell him that Paul was here. I just couldn't. It'd lead to further questions and more lies and- no. "Nothing, Jesse," I lied sweetly. "I promise. I just miss you."

"Ah." He sounded unconvinced.

Beep! I looked down at the screen.

Paul calling!

"Well I have to go." I said nervously.

"Oh," He sounded disappointed.

"I'll call you later," I said, my mind already ten paces ahead towards what Paul could possibly be calling for.

"Ok- Susannah?"

"Yes?"

Beep. Beep. I blushed.

"I love you," His voice smoldered.

I sighed, forgetting about the incoming call, about Paul, about how sleepy I was- everything.. Those words could kill my heart and bring it pounding back to life within a second. "I love you too," I whispered, closing my eyes.

When he hung up, the beeping almost escaped me in my daze. Almost.

"Hello?"

"Suze." He said comfortably.

"Just when I thought you'd spared me and given up."

"Oh, please." I could almost hear his smirk. "Like you want me to stop."

I flushed. I hated how close to the truth that was. Before, everything he said was so far from the truth, it was easy to ignore.

"Right." I snapped sarcastically, "So what do you want?"

"Same thing as always." He said. "You."

I ignored the way my stomach flipped. "Seriously Paul."

"I am serious," He remarked casually, "But, more specifically, I want to see you now. I found something in my uncle's house that I think would interest us both."

"Mediator stuff?" I asked, my breath catching.

"Yes, Suze. You better get over here." He said, and in some far-off way I knew he was probably just looking for an excuse to lure me there- but I was too curious to care.

"I…can't." I sighed. "I just talked to Jesse- I think it's a good idea if we stayed away from eachother."

"Suze," He said silkily, "This is mediator business. Of course it's innocent. Your floating heart-less slab wouldn't mind your doing your job."

"He has more heart than you do." I said angrily. "Whether its beating or not."

"I'll come get you in ten minutes."

"Paul," I said slowly.

He waited.

"I'm serious. Touch me and we're not talking for the rest of the summer?"

"Afraid you won't be able to resist?"

"That better not be anything but an agreement."

"Fine." He said flippantly. "But what if _you_ want to touch me after all this time? Does it still apply?"

I hung up on him.


	8. Guess Whose Coming for Dinner?

_What are you getting yourself into Suze?_ I shook my head as I pulled into the dirt driveway of the huge gated estate before me. _Every idiot in the world by now knows that Paul would never invite me into this for any other purpose that doesn't involve selfishness_. I sighed. All the same, I was curious, and it had been to my experience that left to his own devices, he found other ways to manipulate situations to suit himself- regardless of whether it involved me or not.

"Hello?" A stiff voice came from the speaker outside the gate.

"Oh, um, hi, I think Paul wants to see me."

"Mr. Slater?" He paused. "Yes, one moment, I think he did alert me a guest was coming by later today…"

I glanced around me as I fidgeted nervously in my seat. It was a beautiful property, the lush green acres stretching on for miles, the huge mountains in the distance looming over the flat fenced in land. In a perfectly positioned situation, an enormous white mansion stood directly in the middle. The dark, colonial looking architecture, the huge white pillars- it was the kind of place crawling with ghosts. I knew. People in old places tended to stick around a little longer, unfortunately.

"Yes, erm, Suze?" The man asked, unsure of my name clearly.

"Yep."

"I just called in and they confirmed you. Thank you for waiting, I appreciate your patience. This is a very private estate, you understand, so such things are protocol so that you know in the future."

"Oh, ok," I looked back at the house. Yes, obviously it was an old place and the chances of some dead folks floating around were likely, but I wondered what the living had to hide. Related to Paul- I'm sure there was a pretty good reason the security was high around here.

After about fifteen minutes of driving, that house seemed to get farther and farther away- and I sighed shortly. How big, exactly, was this place. At last, when I arrived, I was beyond impatient.

I came up to the door- but Paul was already there, leaning against the enormous black entrance lazily, blue eyes half closed, watching me. "Took you long enough."

"Oh shut up," I snapped, "Its not my fault the distance from the gate to your house takes up half the united states."

He shrugged. "Wealth has the luxury of space."

"Yeah well, given the expanse of room around here, keep yours from me." I reiterated.

"Yeah, I got the rules the first time." He said boredly, turning around. "Now are you coming in or not or are we going to have to go over your paranoia a few more times?"

I rolled my eyes. "You know, I'm giving you a break by even coming over here. Dealing with assholes like you are hardly something I look forward to."

"Giving me a break?" He asked, raising his eyebrows. "Oh well I am most grateful Ms. Simon, for allowing me the gracious gift of your presence."

I blushed. "Just show me whatever it is you wanted to."

He opened the door without a word, and let me pass before closing it with a finality that made me shiver. Inside, the house was more grandiose than I had imagined. Marble floors, glistening diamond chandeliers and gold accents sparkled magnificently from every angle.

"Isn't this a little Glamorous for Lame Deer Montana?"

He turned to me. "Not for royalty."

I snorted. "Royalty."

"Around here, that's the most accurate term." He ran a hand through his glossy ink-black curls, smirking.

I looked around. "Well I'm sure you like that Paul." It was true. Superiority, power, was important to him in a way I could never understand.

"I don't know what you're trying to suggest by that," He said mockingly, but his blue eyes were focused ahead, absent. He took my arm, leading me forward, but I shrank away from his iron grasp.

He glanced at me boredly. "Really, Suze, are you that afraid of me?"

I looked down. I knew I was. There was that coldness, that strange cruelty in Paul that sent icy sharpness down my body in ways I could hardly understand.

"I think you're afraid of something else," He said, watching me. I shifted uncomfortably.

"Paul." A man's voice said, the cold, cruel authority in his voice running bumps up and down my skin.

Paul turned us around, face serene and emotionless. "Uncle."

"Who's your guest?"

I turned around. At the top of the enormous marble staircase, a tall, thin man with coal-black, slicked back hair and the same pale blue eyes stared down at us, his eyes filled with a steady, alien iciness that was worse than Paul's by a thousand times. This man scared me so thoroughly I found myself slightly dizzy. Paul caught my waist, pulling me in towards him. I didn't resist, I was so shaky. There was something so wrong in the air, something horrible and awful was protruding from that man. My vision shook, a terrible ringing in my ears.

"Her name is Suze." Paul said calmly. "She's my…friend."

His uncle looked down at me, and suddenly those slicing sapphire eyes met mine. My skin crawled and I felt my stomach drop. Dark, strange mercury-like liquid seemed to blur the edges of my vision.

"Uncle." Paul said, and his voice was strangely sharp, as if he were warning him. I looked at him, my body still shivering uncontrollably, and suddenly the spell was gone. I looked at Paul's beautiful, baby-blue eyes, and a comfort overcame me. I sighed, leaning forward into him, exhausted. His lips grazed my jaw as he leaned down close to my ear and my skin burned icily. "Suze, careful."

I snapped back out of my daze, and straightened, embarrassed, but Paul didn't let go of me, his arms tightening around me waist as he looked up the stairs.

His uncle was staring at me perculiarly, an oddly curious smile on his lips. "Hmm. Invite your friend to stay for dinner." He turned around, leaving back up the stairs.

I turned to face Paul. "You can let go of me now."

He sighed, releasing me.

I waited until I was sure we couldn't be heard. "Paul what happened?"

"What?" He blinked innocently.

"Don't 'what' me," I snapped irritably. "Something strange happened back there and you sure as hell better spare me the clueless thing and explain some things."

He smiled crookedly, cocking his head. "Lets just say he was trying to get to know you, and your body put up a fight."

"He's…?"

"Not like us." He said calmly. "Different- but he has the same base."

"Well, I don't like him I don't think." I said angrily. "What was he doing to me?"

"Later, I'll explain everything." He smiled. "But you collapsing in my arms was worth-while."

"Paul-"

"Shh," He put a finger to my lips, blue eyes flashing. "You're going to do that stupid resistance shit again."

I glared at him until he turned away from me, laughing. "I'll wait for you, Suze, until you can't resist anymore." He looked back, smirking. "I think we both know whats waiting for us this summer."

I crossed my arms. "Paul, I swear to God, I don't want you. I never will. The deal is you don't lay a hand on me- ever. If you're going against that-"

"Quiet." He turned his back on me, walking towards a dark, scarcely lit hall. "You're not convincing anyone so I suggest you try to convince yourself first."

I glared at his back. "I hate you."

"You know, as long as you're passionate about me, I could care less what word you choose."

"I can't even stand being around you longer than a few minutes. You drive me crazy."

"Your ranting is boring," He said flatly, "Are we done with this yet?"


	9. Prounounced Guilty of a Future Crime

He lead me around corner after corner- the finery blurring into one big wash of glimmering gold- deep, rich wood, and sparkling gems.

As we passed door after door, I finally asked, "How long is this going to take, exactly?"

My Bobby Brown suede high heels were starting to wear my heels, and I desperately needed to redo my stylish updo.

He didn't even bother turning around, ignoring my complaint altogether. I privately called him a list of colorful words I reserved for his type alone, glancing about me irritatedly.

_Vrrrrrb._

I glanced down.

_Vrrrrrrrrb._

Paul kept walking, oblivious, as I stopped, pulling out my oh so trendily nail-polished phone out of my brand new designer bag. Jesse calling! Those two words flashed across the screen, lighting up the letters oh too well. I felt a pang dangerously close to my heart, and I felt my cheeks burn. Damn. Jesse. I shouldn't even be in this house, sharing something with Paul and keeping everything from the man I loved. This was insane.

"Hello?" I hoped I didn't sound too guilty.

"Susannah." He sounded glum.

"Hi." Oh darn, I already said something like that didn't I? I bit my nails.

"I'm coming to see you."

I nearly dropped my dolce and gabbana purse, my heart stopped so fast. "What?" I gasped, barely able to breathe.

Paul was standing in front of me, having realized I was talking, and his eyes swept over me suspiciously. His blue eyes implored me questioningly.

I swallowed. "But you can't Jesse. Everythings just fine and I have some things going on here that I don't want to involve you in." As, in, a love triangle? A small voice whispered in the back of my head. Yeah, right, the majority of my brain snapped back, like there's even anything going on between Paul and me now.

Paul narrowed his eyes instantly at the mention of Jesse's name, automatically stepping closer to me.

"So there is something going on," Jesse said triumphantly, his accent thick.

"Well, no, that's not really what I meant. Just some ghost things I want to take care of by myself."

"You're hiding something- and I know that means your in trouble. You forget how well I know you."

In trouble. I'm getting into trouble. I sighed. Why was he making me feel guilty about something I hadn't even done? Well, excusing the kiss of course. I mean come on, some lip on lip wasn't the end of the world, right? _Right?_

"Yeah, well I'm done with the macho thing, Jesse. I really just want you to trust me to do something on my own," I said stubbornly.

He sighed. "Its not that I don't trust you, senorita. I do. I just have a very bad feeling."

"Why?" I swallowed my heart.

"It's a different kind of feeling," He struggled for words. "Its not the kind…of feeling that I get when you're in danger, querida. Its different, somehow."

But I haven't done anything! I wanted to scream. My stomach sank sickeningly. Was this feeling of his a premonition as to what was to come? Some kind of foresight into what Paul wanted to happen? But I was so determined against any of that surely Jesse's feeling was about something else….

"You'll never have to worry about me in that way." I said firmly, my will hardening into steel. Nothing would take place this summer between anyone else besides Jesse and I. I would make absolute certain of that.

He sighed. "You're positive you don't want me to come?"

"Honestly, Jesse, I'd love to see you- but this summer, is for me and my family." I laughed weakly. "You distract me too much."

Why did I sound so….un-suze-like? Every part of me screamed traitor. I did want to see Jesse. I thought about him before I went to sleep, always. Why didn't I jump on the opportunity?

"Because he'd see right through your lies," Paul whispered, face centimeters from mine.

"I love you." Jesse said.

"I love you, too." But even as I said the words to one person, I was staring into an entirely different set of eyes.


	10. I Only Have Eyes for You

We made our way down a dark hall, the walls gleaming with various pieces of finery- gold, emeralds, it all flashed by as Paul guided us down the dimly lit passages. I stared, unable to conceal my shock at the casual use of millions of dollars worth of jewels and fine metals plastered along the walls like a garden of glittering petals. Paul, however, didn't spare a glance at the fantasy of a house around him, clearly at home.

"Impressed?" He smirked when he caught me staring with a locked interest.

I tried to shrug off his question, but his gaze forced a reply. "Well, it's…pretty intense."

"Welcome to the world of Denis Washington himself." He gestured around with smug indifference.

"Your world." I looked at him almost accusatorily. "Do you know how many people you could feed in impoverished countries with half of this stuff?"

"Your do-good obsession is sickening."

"And your lack of it is appalling."

"Why?" He turned to me. "Because I don't feel sorry for people who have dug themselves into poverty?" He sneered, turning away. "Hardly."

"People in Africa don't choose to be in poverty. They don't have resources." I insisted as he touched the small of my back- moving me back toward yet another corridor that I had already walked by.

"I hardly see how people in Africa effect me." He opened a door, holding it open for me to pass.

"Don't you see how that sounds?" The passage was getting increasingly dark, darker and darker, the stone on the walls more and more bare.

"Think about it. So lets say that you find some idiotic inspiration to go in and give everyone in the lower class riches. Then what? Everyone's happy, successful, and equally wealthy? Then there would be no wealth for anyone- Marxism, communism, none of that works. There has to be a base for a building to be built- there will always be those on bottom. There will always be a lower class." He took my hand, helping me down from a ledge as it dropped off suddenly.

"Easy for you to say when you're looking down from the highest floor of the building." I snapped, jumping down into a dungeon looking room with none of the finery that which the argument started by. As we kept walking the light faded.

"Perhaps, but my logic remains solid." He said coolly. Suddenly there was no light at all, and his voice came close to my ear. "There's another drop off here." I felt him move suddenly- and heard him land with a quiet thud from what sounded like far below.

In the darkness- he reached up- his hands grasping mine from where he stood far below, barely grasping them- and he said in a low voice, "I'll make sure you don't fall but you need to jump."

I squeezed my eyes shut. "How far is it down? And that's stupid. You're helping people not to starve- not to equalize everyone."

"About five feet." He replied boredly. "And as I said, there must be poverty for the world as we know it to continue functioning.

Damn. Jumping into a pit- blind. His hands were strong around mine, but I swallowed nervously. I toed my way along the edge carefully. "Yeah, but you're still looking at this with the wrong attitude." I sighed. "Are you sure you'll catch me?"

"I'm holding your hands to gauge our distance- I'll know when you jump- and I'll feel it when you're falling." He was so cold, distanced in his tone. "Don't you trust me?" A bit of his acid taunting crept into his voice.

I ignored it. "You don't mind starving people dying all over the world? You certainly won't mind me falling on my ass." And I jumped.

In the next second- he released my hands, taking my waist as I fell- and gently placing me on my feet before him.

"It's a big world, Suze," He said, inches away from me, but in the black I couldn't make out a thing. "You'll be lucky if you can look out for yourself alone."

"Right now, I'm not interested in looking out for anything but a way out of this place. Where is this ghost your talking about?"

"Its farther down." He said disinterestedly, and his large hand covered mine, leading me forward.

"What did I say about the no touching thing?"

"You'll lose yourself in this kind of darkness."

His tone didn't make me question him.

"You really don't care, though?" I sighed. "About other people?"

"I look out for myself. And it's taken seventeen years to perfect that skill."

"But," I sighed, thoroughly frustrated. "Don't you get it? You're just going to end up old and alone if you do that. Lonely. Really really alone."

"Oh? And how do you figure that?" He asked me slowly, but there was a hard anger in his voice.

"If you're looking out for yourself, you can't see anyone else but you."

"That's not true." He said flatly.

"It is."

"Its not."

"Yeah? Okay, and why not?" My sarcasm was biting.

"Because," There was a slow exhale, and the silence around us overwhelmed in those long seconds.

"Because, I see you."


	11. If Heaven and Hell Aren't Satisfied

Me?

I blinked, before bursting into uncontrollable giggles, clutching my sides and gasping for air until my eyes started to water.

I was met by a stony silence.

Once I finally pulled myself together. I choked back my laughter, trying to get the words out clearly. "Paul," I shook my head sadly, "You don't care about me. All you care about is getting what _you _want- from me. There's a big, big difference."

His voice was slicing, frigid, like razor edges to ice. "What could you possibly know about what I care about?"

"Okay," I replied patiently, "Let me rephrase- you want me, don't you Paul?"

"Is that even in question at this point?" He asked me acidly, tone indescribably flat.

"Exactly. There's nothing else, Paul. You want me, you get me, then you'll be done with me. All this stupid angst and manipulative gaming will be over—once you satisfy whatever it is, your own selfish wants, then you will move on to something else. Its all for yourself."

"Is that what you're worried about?" He asked me harshly. He turned me towards him by my forearms, the pitch black concealing what I'm sure was pure anger in those flashing blue eyes.

"Is what?" I blinked stupidly.

"The reason you resist me," He hissed, "Is because you think that I won't stick around? Is that it?"

"Isn't it?" I asked quietly.

There was a long, terrible silence. My heart had started to beat quickly, and blood pounded in my ears—I squeezed my eyes shut and tried to ignore it.

Finally, his silky voice broke the heavy cloak around us, so soft and low I could barely hear him.

"Suze, I think everyone knows I want you. But I'm not going to want you once, or twice, I want you always," He whispered, and his lips moved to the underside of my jaw, caressing my skin softly. "It'll last if you'll let me…."

I pushed him away shakily. "That's exactly my point. That's all you want. Its all to satisfy what you want. That's what I'm saying. Me…You. Us. That's not what we're talking about."

"Isn't it?" He repeated my question smugly.

"No."

"Then, excuse me, but what exactly were we talking about? I must be confused." I could practically feel that taunting smirk radiating around him in the darkness.

"The bottom line is, you're selfish." I reiterated. "You only care about yourself. And you're going to end up alone."

"Hmm," His voice became bemused, but as always, there was that icy undercurrent. "But you see, everything contradicts that. If you give in to me, then I hardly see loneliness."

"You don't know how to have a relationship. To love anything, anyone, but yourself, and the luxuries money brings you." I tried to turn away, but his hands tightened, dropping down to my waist and pulling me forward until we were so close I could feel his breath—wintergreen colgate, I recognized the smell absently.

"What do you want me to say?" He demanded me coldly. " That I care about you?"

"I don't want you to say anything." I snapped. "I was making a statement."

"Well, I do." He said sharply. "And its about time you quit your ridiculous insecurity bullshit, Suze, because I'm not the person to reassure you."

"Then who is?" I quipped furiously. "Because I don't get anything from you except how much you want me in your bed."

"I'm in love with you." The words were spoken with cold, hard hatred. "I've grown up, Suze, and I know what I want and how I feel. After I gave up, after I realized I was a coward, that part of me was lost. And I'm not going to quit fighting for you now. So stop trying to get me to," He spoke quickly, his words burning with a deeper anger. "Because I'm not."

"You did not just say you were in love with me," I whispered, eyes wide. "Jeezus."

He sighed shortly.

"That's not possible for an ego-maniac. A narcissist." I insisted. "Clearly you're unhinged right now."

"I want you with me, now, and I'm done waiting, Suze. We're inevitable. Its like insisting that the sun isn't going to rise tomorrow." Paul said coyly. "And the sooner you see that, the sooner we can stop playing cat and mouse."

I was quiet for a long time. "Why the sudden realizations now, Paul?"

"My uncle showed me a few things," I felt him shrug. "I let go of my arrogance- it was interfering with the game. And I refuse to lose."

"You're arrogance is still here, sorry to break it to you."

"Perhaps," He said smugly, "But now I know I'm in love with you, and that I'm not giving up."

"I still cannot believe Paul Slater is saying _those_ words." I shook my head. "I must be dreaming."

"Not that I'd be surprised you dream about me," He said coolly, "But don't worry, I'm all real for you."

"You're still Paul." I sighed. "Pity."

"Give in, Suze." He shot back, "You're not even fooling yourself any longer."

"I love Jesse." My voice broke. Damn, damn, Damn it! Why?

" I don't believe you," He whispered, "You belong to me now." and his lips met mine, angry and smoldering in the dark, burning with a passion I couldn't resist. Slowly, I began to kiss him back, and when he felt it, he let out a low moan and pressed me to him. I sighed, lips parting, and ran my fingers through his dark locks.

A maniacal laugh tore through the air, stopping us cold, shivering through my bones down through my every fiber. "London bridge is falling down, falling down, falling down, London bridge is falling down," A high, awful voice whispered in my ear, and my mind filled with images of dark roses and blood, running down the walls and seeping into my soul, and- "Stop!" Paul commanded, his voice cold and so authorative that the room seemed to stand still. "Don't touch her."

Slowly, the icy cold brush of dead fingers released themselves from my mind, and I nearly collapsed.

When I turned, the darkness was dizzying, terrifying. Paul's arms tightened around my waist, and I let out a shaky breath, unable to stop hyperventilating.

"Back so soon?" The terrible, high voice pierced my ears- it seemed to be coming from every direction. It started to hum, the eerie melody echoing around the frigid stone, a taunting, murderous child's tune."Does Washington know you visit me?"

"He knows." Paul said coolly. "And if you touch her again, he'll know a few other things."

"Oh, afraid of me are we?" The terrifying laughter rang out, hysterical and insane.

"Not afraid," Paul said smoothly, and he kissed the back of my neck, sending a different kind of shiver down my spine. "Cautious. I have a few questions for you."

"Paul what is this?" I asked him, my voice high and unsteady.

"I am the spirit who never leaves, who was never born and never dies." The voice whispered, but with the intensity of fingernails slicing down chalkboard. "Washington has harnessed me, and here I stay."

"What do you want from this?" I asked him, turning towards him. Something told me something was terribly wrong. We shouldn't be here. _It_ shouldn't be here.

"It has powers," Paul told me, "And it knows about the Dreamlands."

"The what?" I hissed.

"What is it you want to know?" The voice whispered, slithering now, like a snake's low deadly hiss.

"What happens to you? Once you pass into the Dreamlands?" Paul asked calmly.

"You become like Washington, a man of both worlds," The thing hissed, before giggling to itself. "Its in the Dreamlands that the Great War will start. And it is in the Dreamlands that it shall end."

Paul was silent. I was seething. What the hell were the Dreamlands? And Great War? Umm, I don't want any part of a 'great war', especially if it has to do with this thing. You know, summer, tanning, flip flops, the occasional unhappy ghost? No Big Wars or whatever the hell they were talking about.

"Get me out of here," I commanded tightly. I hoped he heard the finality in my voice. I was going to kick him if even tried to put up some lame ass argument-

"That's all for now," Paul said pleasantly, and took my hands, leading me forward.

"The girl," The thing murmured in its slicing voice, "Is your weakness. Show no one."

I felt Paul stiffen beside me, and a few seconds passed before he moved again, fluidly leading me back until the faint rays of light could be seen peeking over the ledge. He took my waist, lifting me up- and swung up agilely by himself.

"How do you see in the gloom?" I asked grumpily.

"I've been down here since I was young," He replied casually.

"What are the Dreamlands? And why the hell did you take me down there? What is that thing? I shuddered involuntarily.

"I'll explain everything later." He found me in the darkness, and ran his fingertips over my lips, before caressing them with his own. "It interrupted us."

I shrugged. "I'm glad."

"I'm not." And his lips moved down, exploring the hollows of my neck.

The sensitivity made it hard to breathe. "Paul," I gasped, "Can we do this later? I'm still scared of that thing- its not that far away yet and…."

He exhaled shortly. "My uncle will be expecting us anyway."


	12. Its not You, or Me, Its Us that I Hate

"Denis Washington," He introduced himself with a charming, deviously handsome smile that was charismatic but retained indecipherable eerie depths. I smiled back nervously.

"And who is our beautiful guest?" He asked, his smile remaining but his pale blue eyes as cold as ice- staring with a probing curiosity that I found mildly uncomfortable, but nothing like that unearthly stare from earlier

"Like you don't already know," Paul muttered wryly, and I turned to stare at him. Why would he say that? Unless I had some striking resemblance to Uncle Barry-- which I fervently hoped I did not!!- I didn't see any reason that Paul's uncle would already know me.

"Susannah Simon." I said, pleased with how even my voice sounded. I let out a small breath.

We had been 'summoned' to the great hall- a huge expanse of marble and silver- which had nothing in it but a long, elaborately carved table that seated around forty people. From there I realized we were expected to eat dinner- I balked, by the way, but Paul basically picked me up and forced me into the chair- which we were eating awkwardly at one extreme end of the table. I couldn't help but look down the thirty seven other chair places, each one empty and haunting, and be struck with the creepiness of how lonely it was.

"Suze." Paul corrected smoothly- it took me a moment to realize he wasn't calling me- he was telling his uncle what he thought was the better use of my name. Oh.

"Suze Simon." The words seemed strange and commanding in Denis Washington's mouth, and he turned towards me, those piercing sapphire eyes glowing like coals, searing straight through to my soul. I looked down quickly, letting out a shaky exhale.

My skin was crawling. How could someone be so…creepy? Alien? I didn't know a word for him- other than indescribable.

"And how is Barry and his lovely wife?" He asked, his voice edged with a razor sharpness that I didn't miss.

I dared a glance up from my soup bowl- he was swirling his wine in the glass, with a small, devilish smile playing on perfect lips, pale blue eyes fixated on the swirling crimson liquid.

I resisted a shiver. "Oh yeah they're good." I swallowed.

Paul rested his hand lightly on my knee- and I shifted instantly, shooting him a dark look.

He smiled angelically, but I could see the small little flash of confused frustration. Who did he think he was? I was surprised at how angry I was that he touched he me so easily- that he thought he had permission to do that whenever. Okay, whatever, so we hooked up a few times, and it was good. Alright, maybe a little better than good. Fine, so it was-

"Perfect." Paul's uncle smiled, never looking up.

Perfect? I blinked. Oh, I'd said my family was doing well. And he'd replied-

Perfect. Like he was giving their happiness a gold star for approval.

"Yes, its wonderful," Paul muttered disinterestedly, and started toying with a lock of my hair. What was he _doing_? God knows I hadn't even thought about Jesse at all in the past twenty minutes- a record! Surely this was all deteriorating fast, and I was letting it. I promised myself I would not even touch Paul this summer- least of all kiss him. And let him kiss me.

And kiss my neck.

And, touch my hair-

And-

Shit.

"So you are staying the night?" Denis asked me very suddenly, and his icy blue eyes poured into me, plummeting into my veins like glass shards. It was as if he was holding on to me with no hands, opening my mind and fixating me into helplessness- free to do whatever he liked.

I suddenly found it very hard to speak. "Umm," I wracked my brain. Think, Suze, think. You can't let him win. "Why would I stay?"

"The pass. It has fallen."

"Excuse me?" I asked, wondering what the hell he was talking about now.

"The storm outside- it has flooded the roads- and it has felled the pass between the mountains- a landslide, my dear, has blocked the way out." He simplified for me, cool and removed, unaffected by the words he was saying.

"Storm?" I cried, "What storm?"

I got up quickly, my chair squealing, nearly tripping over myself as I exited the room- flying to the nearest window in the hallway- black, ominous clouds concealed the sky, mud squirmed below, at least four feet of water rippling against the base of the house.

Paul appeared beside me, staring out with an unreadable expression. "This is my uncle's doing." He murmured quietly. "He must want you here."

"What? So he can control the _weather _now?" I demanded loudly.

"Shh," He put a finger to my lips, smirking. "I doubt you need to alert the entire house, Suze."

"Its a fucking hurricane out there," My French tumbled out of my mouth carelessly, but I couldn't help it. I was suddenly a prisoner to Mr. Washington, and it wasn't sitting well with me. "A hurricane, Paul!"

"I know." He shrugged. "His powers…are extensive."

The admiration in his voice wasn't concealed.

I scowled furiously. "Well, I'm sure you're happy!"

"Why would I be?" He asked me flatly, already dismissive.

God. Barry! My Aunt! They were probably going to have a heart attack!

"Yeah, I'm sure you're just furious that I have to stay trapped in your house."

"I actually hadn't thought about it." He answered me coldly. "But your faith in my character clearly makes up for it."

"Clearly," I turned away.

Suddenly his arms were around my waist, constraining, and his lips were at my ear. "You'll come to me tonight," He said, his voice low. "Today was the start. You can't act like nothing's changed."

I stomped on his feet, hard, and he released me, much to my satisfaction.

"You asshole." I hissed. "Tonight- my only plans are to lock my doors- and to call Jesse."

His eyes flickered, before he settled into a satisfied sneer. "Well, you can try, Suze, but let me remind you that phone reception isn't fantastic in a hurricane."

I opened my mouth- but alas, I was at a loss of words. So with that, I turned around, stomping away in my new heels, careless that with the force I was imposing on them they might break on the marble- fluffing my hair, standing up straight, and doing what I do best:

Discarding Paul Slater.

With as much dignity as I could muster.


	13. Whoomp! There it is

Because I had cleverly predetermined that asking Paul where I should sleep was a bad idea, I went straight to Washington, ready with my hands on my hips.

"Okay, since you've trapped me here, mind giving me somewhere to sleep?" I demanded bluntly, staring at him straight in those unnervingly ice blue eyes. My mood was as dark and brooding as the skies, and the storm was ready to break with a deafening crack upon anyone who stood in range.

"Trapped you here?" He repeated, with a mocking, insincere look of astonishment. "My dear, how would you suggest I do that?"

"Shut up, I know your game." I grumbled. "The Big Piss Fight, the freaky thing you're keeping in your basement, getting Paul here because he's as twisted as you, sinking your house into a big pot of mud - I don't care. Just gimme a room."

His look of innocent surprise quickly settled into a knowing smirk, a nasty, condescending twist to his lips. "You're an interesting young woman, Miss Simon."

"I'm so glad you find me interesting, but how about we actually talk about what I asked? Okay?" I was distinctly aware that I was pushing it, but I was too grumpy and impatient to care.

"I am aware of your request," He replied coolly, brushing an imaginary bit of dust off his spotless suit. "Though it appears you're a bit too contentious to allow me to continue speaking without imposing your attitude upon me."

What was it with the clear dialect? The SAT words and the cool, perfect diction? Flawless pronunciation of every precise word? It was driving me crazy. Not that I usually minded people who could actually speak English, it's just, in his case- it was unnatural. Perfection, is, unnatural after all.

And so was Denis Washington.

"Well then I'm giving you the chance without 'imposing my attitude' on you," I snapped, "So speak."

"I'll have Mariette board you in the left wing, third floor- any of those vacant rooms will do," He said airily, waving his hand in dismissal.

"Mariette?" I asked, suddenly exhausted.

"How rude of me," He turned, and snapped his fingers, which I noticed were strangely long and slender, like the legs of a spider. I shivered.

Suddenly a woman with auburn hair and green eyes appeared beside us, so fragile and thin she looked as though she were made of the most delicate shards of glass- so easy to break. And her expression was about as changing as a glass surface was, too, her face shut down, eyes as blank as stone.

"This is Mariette, the head maid of the household. Ask her for assistance if you have further questions." He said, and I became aware of his gaze in my peripheral vision, narrowing in on me, in my blurred perception his eyes seemed to glow and distort, growing brighter and more overpowering, filling the room- I blinked- turning towards him, but he was inspecting those long eerie fingers, a strange haunted smile playing at his lips, not even looking at me.

Oh, Suze, you're losing it, I warned myself.

But that's when it happened.

His eyes rose to meet mine and my stomach plunged into icy depths and my eyes swam with long worms of vivid color, eating their way through my vision- I was crawling with him- he was inside my mind and inside of my veins, a live energy, burning his way through my every crevice. I gasped and swooned, falling forward right into his very arms. "Susannah," He whispered, "You have potential to help me a great deal. I have foreseen that my nephew and your powers combined will be of the greatest importance to my little project."

I gasped, trying to recall my essence to my body. I felt stripped, the very core of my being- raped from my body and taken from me- only to be shoved roughly back into jaggedy remains.

"What do you want with me?" I managed to say, but it came out more of a whimper than the intended powerful demand.

"My purpose for you will be revealed," He whispered in my ear.

I struggled to stay conscious, but from his touch came an intoxicating deep aura, seeping into my body and slowly draining away my conciousness.

"Don't touch her." From the half-asleep dreamworld I was desperately slipping into, the voice was cold, the hardest I'd ever heard it- and I clung to it- my piece of sanity, a memory of the old world. I knew that voice, and I needed it to keep me conscious.

"Paul?" I wondered aloud, but everything seemed so far away- and I was so tired…

Suddenly, a different kind of feeling came over me, it was warmer, and much less afraid- almost, secure. I opened my eyes. He was carrying me, Paul, his dark curls falling over his blue eyes, which stared ahead with a dull fury that frightened me.

Suddenly, I was more than wide awake. I blinked twice.

"What are you doing?" I demanded, getting my voice back. "Put me down right now!"

He looked down at me, but his stony expression stayed in place. "Go back to sleep, Suze."

"You got me into this," I accused. "I didn't even want to come here and now what? I'm in the royal Slater freakshow."

"I wasn't aware he wanted you here."

"Hah. He's manipulating everyone. He manipulated y_ou_, even, to get me here. For once Paul Slater, someone's pawn." I couldn't help the acid words slipping from my mouth- but I was so angry, and exhausted I could barely resist starting to smack him.

A muscle near his cheekbone jumped, and I took it as a warning sign to shut up, as hard as it might be... He still hadn't let go of me, carrying me into the dimly lit halls of the seemingly endless household. These halls were different, long, elegant, red velvet carpeting, deep cherry wood panels, but much more comfortable and less….creepy. Beautiful, even.

"Where are you taking me?" I asked, more quietly, after I felt safe to talk without blowing up all over him.

"To your room." He muttered flatly. "Obviously. Wasn't that what you were bothering him about in the first place?"

"I don't know if I trust you with my sleeping arrangements," I said half-heartedly.

"Mmm, won't you just once?" He grinned, those white teeth flashing for the first time in what felt like forever today. "But you'd injure my eye socket so I think I'll wait."

"Darn straight." I warned, oddly justified. He'd basically gotten on top of me in his grandfather's house- and I'd consequentially almost jabbed his eye out. That was almost a year or two ago. Suddenly my stomach sank. We'd been playing this game for an awful long time. Flames are supposed to flicker and die. _Die_.

What was it about this boy that kept bringing us together? It was magnetic, how we were constantly put in the same situations over and over, like rocks smashing together over and over. Well, this particular rock doesn't want to make friction. Not when there are rock hard abs on a different hottie, who had a sexy Spanish accent and the most beautiful eyes in the whole world. I did love Jesse, and I was sick of this game with Paul. It seemed so endless. What was it about Paul? What was it?

As I grudgingly considered this issue, he pulled me closer to him unconsciously as we turned a corner, so that I was more cradled.

And so I looked at him for a moment, really looked at him. What was it about Paul? His straight, razor sharp jaw, strong and pronounced, his high cheekbones, the sloping slant of his cheek and the way his black curls fell long, over his eyes, like velvet over sapphires. These arms, around me, did they feel good? Strong and secure. His witty banter and his smirking sarcastic smiles, the way his eyes flashed when he looked at me, those little smug remarks that always hit home. That deep, brooding darkness that enveloped him, that deeper, indescribable emotion when he told me that he was in love with me, the way I caught him staring, and the way he was never embarrassed that I saw him, either. These things flashed by, and I really wondered how this collection of things made me hate him so much. And I wondered why they also kept me constantly on edge, insecure about everything I believed in- the second he questioned it. The way he kissed me, darkly beautiful and deep and smoldering- and the way I was always helpless to those moments, even when I loathed him to my very core.

We were still walking, so I muttered, "Arms tired?"

"As enthused as I am that you're worried about my welfare, you're the one who passed out." He muttered back, flatly and without humor.

"That didn't answer my question."

"I have a lot of endurance." And there it was, that infamous smirk.

God I hated him. I really did. So why couldn't I forget how much I liked those moments in the dark? Why? I really hated myself, honestly. I hated everything about this whole thing. Why did I ever meet him? Why did I go to that crappy summer resort? We would have never… been the way we are now. Just strangers in school. He could've dated Kelly Prescott and I could have lived happily ever after. Because now we were stuck like this. In this pattern that got us nowhere. I mean, where was this going? If what I was doing now kept thrusting us back into this cycle, what other options did I have? I mean, what else was there to do?

I had a boyfriend, who I loved. I went to Lame Deer, MONTANA, for god's sake. And here we were, in the same stupid conflict. So clearly I was doing something wrong. So that meant, what were the options? What else could I be doing? I mean…really the only other thing to do in this stupid back and forth- would be to….actually….be with…

And suddenly my head pounded and my sides ached and nearly split. Because without even realizing it, I was thinking about it. About us.

The arguing, the banter, that was part of who we were, it would never change…

But being together? Actually trying? Surely that wasn't possible, surely…

But there it was. I had to think about us caring about one another- if we could- and not just being objects of passion to one another. And despite all reason, despite everything- I had to consider the idea for one breathtaking second—

And—

And it felt like I was shattered into a million pieces, an acute pain exuded from the inner core of my chest my ribs felt like jaggedy ruins, a pathetic excuse. And it hurt, it was so hungry and wild and terrible that I could scarcely breathe.

God damn I couldn't love him, because love was wonderful. I'd felt it before, that lovely, deep, security that melted from within me whenever Jesse was around. THAT was love. That happy, fluffy stuff, like Cinderella and Sleeping Beauty. I'd had that with Jesse. THAT was love.

This, this hurt to much to be anything close, to, it could never be…

"I don't love you," I whispered, "It hurts too much for me to love you."

He looked down at me, a little surprised, and all of the sudden five different fierce expressions ran their course in about a millisecond. And suddenly he was kissing me, and I felt like my blood was boiling, and I could scarcely breathe, and I turned to him, wrapping my legs around his waist, unable to get close enough- unable to get enough of him, unable to get close enough to quite drive away that longing pain, that terrible, terrible agony inside of me-

He ran his fingers through my hair, his lips angry and dark and mind-numbing. I took his face in my hands, pulling it to me, kissing him back with all I had, unable to control it.

"It hurts, doesn't it Suze?" He whispered, pressing me up against the wall.

"It hurts too much," I whispered between kisses, and suddenly I was crying, tears slipping over my face like they weren't mine- but some other force of nature, fast and uncontrollable. "Its not right," I whispered, starting to really cry. "Its not love when it hurts this much."

His lips moved over my face, kissing away my tears, his hands circling my waist. "That's where you're wrong. This isn't natural." He whispered, so coldly and so furiously that I nearly flinched, "But its here. And we need to face it now, Suze, before it ruins me."

"I don't want this," I blubbered hopelessly.

"And I do?" He laughed bitterly. "Yeah, right. You should have just given in to me at the very start and maybe this wouldn't have happened."

"So its my fault." Through my tears, my tone was indignant.

"Its always your fault," He whispered, and kissed me so deeply that I forgot everything entirely.

"In this case, it certainly is." A deep voice commented.

I froze.

Paul tightened his grip around my waist so hard that his knuckles turned white, and his jaw clenched, before he turned, letting my legs drop from his waist, and setting me down, facing the intruder with a brilliant iciness in the very depths of his blue eyes.

"Rico Suave," He smiled, white teeth flashing in the most mocking of grins, and he let out a low bow. "So glad you could join us."


	14. Sunsets Promise Beauty if Nothing Else

"I wish I could say the same." Jesse said, his black eyes steely and unreadable. He was leaning against the wall beside us, arms crossed, staring only at me with bottomless onyx eyes. With the most detached and horrible expressionless look I'd ever seen. I swallowed hard, trying not to burst into tears.

"So, you found out." Paul smirked, running his hand over my shoulder possessively. I slapped his hand away, my face flaming.

"I think Susannah and I should talk." Jesse looked at Paul for the first time, and the moment they met eyes it was like thunder cracking over our heads.

They'd always hated eachother, sure. They'd both expressed a desire to kill one another, true. Paul even tried it a few times (it showed the difference in character between the two). But I'd never, ever seen that level of dark, impossibly murderous loathing. It went deeper than a death wish.

"I agree," I said weakly, turning to Paul and staring him down with a watery smile. "Please."

He raised a brow in irritation. "Fine, I'll be back in a few minutes," He said breezily, as if he had no desire to stay, making his way down the hall in long confident strides. His pride was so inflated it seemed he could just float off the ground.

I closed my eyes, squeezing my temples. I couldn't handle this.

"Susannah," Jesse said in a softer voice. "Look at me."

I shook my head fervently.

"Querida," He murmured quietly. "You owe me that much."

"No," I whispered, looking up for the first time. He was closer than I'd anticipated, a mere few inches, looking down at me with a sad patience that nearly shattered me right there. I had to resist the tears, blinking it away furiously. "I owe you so much more than that."

He looked away from me then, to my relief. "Perhaps just an explanation, then, Susannah."

"I have none," I admitted, looking at him sideways. He was so beautiful, so good and pure. I knew that my whole being, my whole heart laid out, would never match a single fiber of his entity. Shame burned from me. "I really don't."

I'd never felt so lost. Everything was slipping through my fingers, like liquid mercury, forever shifting and moving, but falling all the same.

"I understand," He said in a low voice, even though I know he didn't.

"I don't want you to understand," I wailed miserably. "Get pissed at me. Scream at me. Throw me to the floor and call me horrible names. I deserve worse than all of that combined."

"What you deserve, Ms. Simon, is to be loved. And to love someone with all your heart," He told me quietly, taking my face in his hands. "I cannot be this person- I do not own your heart."

"Neither does he," I sniffled. "He's Paul Slater."

He was silent for a long time. "I suppose, that you're divided. But you have to choose, querida. In order to have someone you must give your whole self in return. Not just a part of it."

"I know," I murmured, "But I don't want to give myself to Paul. At all. I want to belong to you, all of me. Because I do love you with all I have, it's just-"

"My love," He interrupted gently, "What I feel for you doesn't leave room for me to see another . What I just saw has shown me that something is missing for you. Something big."

I let out a slow breath, the silence screaming in my ears. "I understand what you're saying Jesse. I do. And I desperately wish that I was good enough to give you all the things you've given me. You are wonderful," I told him, "And that you deserve someone who can be equal to that. I just so wish I could be."

"There is no other for me," He sighed, with a kindness in his eyes I couldn't stand. "I'm in love with you, Susannah. Which is why I can't do what I want and murder Paul Slater- because I know that somewhere inside of you, he has taken a part of you. Its why I can't leave you with hateful words, and rightfully dismiss you from my life. Even though you've done this thing, I cannot hate you. The only thing I need to know, right now, is if I can ever reclaim that missing fraction of your heart- or whether he has claimed in forever."

I looked at him, straight into his deep, bottomless eyes. "I hate this. You can't forgive me. I've forever wronged you, Jesse, and I can never live with myself especially since you're being so-"

He covered my mouth firmly. "I want you, all of you, forever. Don't you see that? I want to give you what you want more than anything. If that's not me, I need to know. Because if its him," He winced but remained firm, "I'll let go. You can have one another."

"I want you with all my heart," I breathed, "I just don't know how to accept you back knowing I have wronged you so much."

"It's hard for me to know he owns this piece of you. But I suppose what I want to know, is," He paused, "Who has the bigger claim?"

I opened my mouth, but suddenly I felt like the wind was knocked out of me, and I physically gasped for breath. Recovering, I met his eyes again, and opened my mouth- willing to say the promises and the words that could save us. That could save my bleeding, sinful heart. But the moment I felt the words starting to form, once again I was at a loss, reeling with the same pain, that same awful, throbbing sting.

I knew that feeling now.

It was the agony of loving Paul Slater.


	15. I'd Kill to Be With You

"I'm staying." Jesse declared flatly the moment Paul rounded the corner.

"Excuse me?" Paul asked expressionlessly, before looking at me with eyes as cold and hard as sapphires. "Don't tell me you've made the same mistake."

I opened my mouth, but wasn't fast enough.

"Susannah and I have mutually agreed to part ways." Jesse said sharply, his accent growing a little stronger as his face hardened.

Paul's face smoothed back into his normal impassive confidence.

"However," Jesse continued, and a deep fire seemed to light behind his midnight eyes. "She hasn't chosen you, either."

Paul snapped back into focus at that, turning towards me with a speed that I hadn't been prepared for. "What?"

"He's right," I said quickly, to avoid further interruption. "I think its fair to say that you, somewhere…" It still was utter hell to say it aloud in any form. "Deep down…sort of have a little bit of me. And I know I love Jesse." How easy in comparison. "So, its not fair to myself or to either to be with one. So, while Washington has me trapped here, I basically want you and I to talk as little as possible."

"And I'm staying to make sure she's safe." Jesse reiterated.

"So, that's it." I said uneasily, watching Paul eye Jesse darkly. "We're going back to the way things were."

"Like nothings changed," He said quietly, and his entire frame seemed to shift, rigid, upright, his jaw tight.

"Don't be stupid," I snapped. "Everything's screwed up now. You think I'm not aware of that?"

"Apparently you're not." His sapphire eyes seemed to glow, icy and brilliant in the growing darkness. "Because if you truly were, you wouldn't be denying us what rightfully should happen."

"Oh yeah?" I tried to keep my voice down, swallowing the hard knot forming in my throat. "And what do you think is so important?"

"You gave him his chance," Paul gave a halfhearted nod in Jesse's direction. "I want mine."

"I love Jesse." I glowered. "And things between us are…complicated, also. I'm not going to hurt myself anymore, there's no more competition. Its over Paul. This insane race. Its over. "

"Liar." He whispered. "You can't even say it."

I blinked. "I just did."

"Say," He laughed, a low, hard-edged mockery. "That you're in love with me, Suze."

"Well, its just complicated."

"You're trying to say that you love us both," He smirked. "But you can't get your mouth wrapped around the words to admit it to me."

"I'm saying a variation of that," I said miserably. God damn couldn't he just give up and stop trying to make every second hell for me. "I'm saying things are two complicated for me to pursue…um, a relationship, with either."

"You still haven't said it."

"I don't have to."

"Are you afraid?" He whispered. "Of what it'll do? The power of those three little words out loud?"

"I'm not scared." My voice cracked and I inaudibly cursed, coloring furiously. I knew it. Even if it was impossible to say. I knew that the awful throbbing inside of me was in every way responsible to my loving satan's spawn. I just…couldn't admit it to the demon himself. Or Jesse. Or, well….to…

Anyone, really.

"I think you are," He drawled.

"Leave her alone, Slater." Jesse commanded in a low voice that didn't leave any question.

"Oh, and our dear Zorro here doesn't want to hear it either." Paul continued, and suddenly I was afraid. There was that liquid mercury working inside of him, I could see it penetrating the velvety tone in his voice and the sheer ice of his eyes. It was a deeper anger that when recognized, sent blunt stabs of cold fear down my spine. "Does anyone know it better than you?" Paul continued, his voice dropping into a whisper that nearly halted my heart. Something was wrong ,here, very wrong. "Does it hurt, De Silva? Does it hurt to know that the girl who would do anything to belong to you, can't? That even though she lays out everything for you, her true core belongs to me?"

Stop. Stop… "Stop it Paul," I breathed.

There was dead silence.

But slowly, Paul's whisper broke the air once more, slicing, quiet, deadly.

"Does it hurt?" He whispered. "How much?"

Two bodies hurtled across the room, a flash of colliding force.

The air rushed out of me in a low whoosh, and suddenly I was running, running towards the two dark shapes pounding each other on the floor.

"Stop!"

Jesse had Paul's neck in his grasp, but Paul was over him, his fist battering Jesse's face in dark bursts of violent energy.

"You idiots," I gritted my teeth fiercely as I waved my arms around, desperately trying to get one of their attention.

Jesse looked up, once, before he got smacked in the eye. You can imagine that his attention was back on annihilating Paul within two seconds.

And so, I did what I had to do. So, I had a dramatic flair, so what? These were desperate times.

So,

I held my breath, counted to forty, and promptly fainted.


	16. Beautiful Nightmare

"This is why we get along so well."

"Shut up," I heard Jesse say frantically, his voice much closer. "Susannah, Susannah can you hear me?"

I tried to say something, but nothing came out. It was as though I'd been cemented into place. Dreams played on the edges of my conciousness, a fluttering memory here, a dull flash of color there_. This is the last time I make myself faint_, I thought, slightly panicked. But soon, calm washed over me, dulling my panic into a lulling whisper of caution, the waves of my conscious pulling me back under. _The lull of music I couldn't quite remember played in the echoes of my mind, and I saw the hint of purple playing along the edges of my conscious. Wherever I was, my mind wasn't in the real world._

My ears, however, stayed alert.

"Her head is still bleeding," Jesse cried, and I felt him move closer beside me.

"Make sure her head is elevated," Paul advised, with the smooth tone of the unconcerned.

"Have you no thought to consider the woman you supposedly love is injured?"

"She fainted. She is a little prone to be dramatic."

"And her head hit the floor twice as hard as you managed to strike me," Jesse said flatly. _Dreaming, a thousand stars swirling round my mind, edges sharp and slicing, plummeting down my throat, proving hard to swallow. Wake up, this dreamland is too far away…_

"If Suze wants a fluttering hen, then you are the perfect candidate." Paul shot back icily.

"Regardless of what I am, I am a better candidate than you."

Paul snorted. I tried again to reach full conciousness, trying to ignore the high ringing sounds filling my ears. _The dark tugged me back like gravity, a tango of reality and fantasy._

"Better than me? Do the words 'class' mean anything to you?"

"Does relevancy to you?" Jesse muttered, his accent thickening with his irritation.

"You're nothing. You were born into nothing, and you died into nothing, and now, well, nothings changed much, has it senor?"

I felt Jesse stir beside me, the slightest of movements. _A dark, maniacal laugh, the dark spirit is here, in the crevices of my mind. Blood runs down the walls, and twisted, mottled flesh fills the putrid air with its undeniable stench. I have to warn them. We have to get out of here. Darkness brews here like moss growing deep in the moist cracks of the earth._

"I wouldn't expect anything else from you, Slater. You're quick to stereotype the Hispanic boy as poor before you have time to check your facts."

Paul chuckled darkly. "I wasn't suggesting you were in _poverty_."

"I wasn't."

"People like you can't be fixed with money." Paul said with a venomous hint of condescension. "It takes class."

"If you have whats considered class, I want none of it."

"I have plenty of it." He drawled. "What I don't have is idiotic sympathy, this sentimental bullshit that everyone around here gets so high on."

"That's exactly whats wrong with you, you don't see the value of other people."

"I see her." He informed him. The words rang in my head, an echo of a distant memory. _I see you…. I felt his lips, tasted the sharp sting of mint and saw the sapphire blue of his irises, swirling round like a whirlpool, faster and faster until it was a blur of ocean current._

"The only redeemable quality you have is what you feel for her." Jesse sighed. "Though selfishness also taints it. You want her for yourself, and will destroy her happiness as long as you get to keep her."

_It will destroy us all if we stay here._

"Hardly. If she's not happy, she'll not settle. I want all of her. I'm not going to hurt her, Jesse, if you both just give up this struggle." All of the sudden, his tone was sincere, a hard intensity running beneath his words instead of malice. "I have the ability to destroy a lot of things to get her, you're right, and I will if I have to- if this ridiculous foreplay doesn't let up."

_Let me go, Paul, you have my heart, and the grasp of your fingers bruise the surface black._

"And if I don't give up that easily?" Jesse countered.

"Then all bets are off."


	17. Obsessed Possessed

When I finally broke through the surface of that twisted dream, Jesse was directly above me, a crease between his frowning brows, framing black, worried eyes. His expression immediately softened, a smile spreading like sunshine over his chiseled features- he broke into a smile and kissed my hand- enthusing a long flow of Spanish exclamations. Clearly, he was relieved. I couldn't help but smile back at him, and I touched my fingers to his lips to still the foreign language. My touch was like magic- "…Susannah you scared me." The English was refreshing to my ears.

There was quiet, and I looked into his velvet black eyes, and felt nothing but love radiating from their unfathomable depths. "Jesse. We have to leave this place," I murmured quietly.

"As soon as I am sure your concussion is not too severe, we will travel." He reassured me.

Paul's voice was cold, the even tone of his voice dangerous in the gentle silence of the room. I hadn't even realized he was there. "There won't be any leaving with the storm."

"We will find a way." Jesse said, with a period at the end of the sentence that signified the closure of any argument.

Paul chuckled darkly, and when his eyes found mine, they were burning with a kind of feverish anger. "You can run, Susannah, but my uncle will have you- whether or not you hide."

"Is that his threat, or yours?" I asked softly.

He stared at me coldly, before turning his back, facing the rain flooded window, posture rigid.

"I'm not leaving." I told them both.

They both turned to me in surprise- Paul suspicious, Jesse alarmed.

"I'm not." I repeated firmly. "There's too much going on here for me to leave."

The corner of Paul's lips turned up in the ghost of a knowing smirk.

"Not anything to do with you," I mumbled, embarrassed, "Or Jesse. Or anyone else. Its this energy here- it'd be irresponsible to leave Paul with it." I rolled my eyes. "To hell if you don't become an evil henchman or something."

He smiled tightly "I resent that."

"Susannah- Father Dominic would not approve," Jesse's face was instantly stern. "I have to act as your guardian when he is absent. This is endangering your welfare."

"Her guardian?" Paul sneered. "When you're not vying to be her lover, you mean."

My fingernails dug into my palms as I stepped forward, eyes flashing- "I'm so sick of this! Its hard enough to deal with you two one at a time- when you're fighting like this, its impossible- do you have to act like complete neandrothals all the time?"

"No need to yell, querida," Jesse murmured nervously.

"I love the angry side of you." Paul said thoughtfully. "Its sexy."

"Can't you both take me seriously for two seconds?" I demanded furiously. "Jesse- stop trying to control me. I think it can be agreed you're not exactly fit to switch roles to authoritarian right now. And Paul, the barb-wire wording has to stop- we get it, you're clever."

He smirked at me- shameless. "So you're staying."

"You can't be left here to play with evil- you're like a child- you can't control yourself."

"Well, I do like to play with fire." He said softly, holding my gaze with glittering, navy eyes.

"And you'll perish in the flames!" Jesse exclaimed desperately, grabbing my shoulders.

"Someone has to put it out." I insisted, forcing myself to push him away. "I'm not one to ignore wrong-doing here. Whatever is happening- its big. While I was out- I dreamed of a presence, dark and looming, that approaches like a storm- its not here yet, but I'm serious- its power is terrifying."

Paul's eyes gleamed, lusting at the thought.

Jesse's expression was not so enthusiastic.

"So I see you've experienced the dawn of my project." The voice was cool, perfect, slithering like oil down a glassy surface, oozing with a silky danger.

It stopped me cold.

"I'm glad." It continued pleasantly, "It would be so very hard to explain."

"Please do anyway," I forced myself to turn around, meeting the very terrifying gaze of Paul's uncle.

"Who is this?" Jesse said quietly in my ear. I jumped a little, before relaxing into the frame of his body. The energy of this horror standing before me was constantly exhausting. I took his hand, steeling myself.

Denis watched me- coolly at first, before his snaking eyes grew wide and suspicious in uncontrollable rage- he lept forward, face askew in terror, "Whose there?" He screamed.

I stumbled backwards- but Jesse's steely arms kept me steady. And he stepped forward, wary. "I am Jesse de Silva." He said in a low, steady voice that I couldn't help but be proud of. Bravery in the face of Denis Washington was no easy feat.

Denis's face grew even more twisted with hatred- "You dare hide the identity?" He snarled, and in the blink of an eye he was gripping my wrists, so hard I cried out, the molded grasp like stone cemented into my skin, crushing the tender tendons.

I gasped in pain, stumbling forward- "Tell me!" Denis hissed.

"Tell, you, what?" I whimpered, trying to breathe through the pain. Jesse stepped between us- but when his hands pressed Denis's chest- they disintegrated like mere ash, falling away. Panicked, Jesse pulled back, the material of his hand growing back as he disattached himself from the crazy demon before us. Denis's body seemed to glow with a writhing, poisenous mercury, the pupil of his eyes growing red with hateful, bloody murder.

"Who is the spirit there?" His voice was contorted with a wild, mad frenzy, and ripped my arms forward, sending me sprawling onto the floor. "Tell me the spirit who is there with you now!"

"Denis!" Paul's voice rang out, sharp as the slicing edge of a knife- my tormentor turned his head- and Paul's fist connected smartly into his temples, crushing the bones beneath with a sickening crunch- Denis made a low, unearthly moan as blood came rushing out of his opened mouth. His terrible, terrible eyes met mine before he sunk to the floor- no match for the claims of his unconscious upon his mind.

Paul's arms surrounded me, and he ducked his head into my neck, breathing out shakily- the air tickling the sensitive skin- giving my shivers. There was a long silence, and I couldn't move myself to disattach him from me. It wasn't until I stopped that I realized that Paul's hands were shaking as they gripped my arms, pressing me to him. "Maybe you should leave."

I'd never seen him afraid before.

"Yes. She should." Jesse spoke, voice breaking. He looked away, unable to look at me in Paul's hold.

"What, what happened?" I whispered. "Why did he…."

"He can't see Jesse." Paul said quietly. "He is deathly afraid of what he cannot see."

"He can see that thing downstairs…."

"He's connected to it, but he cannot see it." Paul replied darkly, turning me to face him in his arms so that we were face to face. "His soul is invested in whatever power he's managed to move here. But he can't communicate with it directly…not the way we can."

"That's why we're here!" I cried, my eyes growing wide with horror. "To help him harness this…thing!"

"He's a part of it. But, I think…" Paul looked at me, face cold and impassive. "The more I see, the more I think he's going to be consumed by it."

"And so the walker becomes the dog." I joked weakly.

He rolled his eyes. I realized he still had his arms around me. I pushed him away, brushing the hair out of my eyes. "Is he going to wake up or did you kill him?" I asked quietly.

"He's alive, unfortunately. Just a little…bruised." He shrugged. "Don't count on his unconciousness to save us. I have a feeling that whatever he's doing- he can do just as well in the dark corners of his mind- buried deep in his dreams.

"He's still working evil inside those damned eyelids. Great." I whimpered.

A hopeless desolation was overcoming me. The devil, or something even darker, was coming to possess this place. And here we were. Trapped.


	18. The Choked Down Taste of Pride

When I woke up, the world felt one hell of a lot brighter. Sunshine had broken through the terrible looming clouds, which swirled like a whirlpool around the house- penetrating through the thick sheet of mists and piercing through in glorious rays of sunshine- random beams of god shining through the dark onto the varied landscape. It was beautiful, if not a little eerie. It looked as though the black sky was battling the sun, every so often thunder would clap, and one of the rays of sunshine would be swallowed by the rolling storm clouds. A few minutes later- another would appear in its place.

A subtle thump snapped my attention back to the nightmarish house I was trapped in- I flew around, catching my breath. Nothing. I listened carefully- and it happened again, right beside me- oh. The air escaped my lungs like a deflated balloon. It was Jesse getting up in the room beside me. Ever since we'd been exposed to Denis Washington's "fit", I was afraid that when he awoke in the kitchen we'd locked him into (Paul said it was pointless, he'd get out anyway- but it made me feel a little better) that Paul's uncle would wake with a mind to kill us both since we weren't exactly helping his "big plan". I wasn't so worried about Jesse. He was our secret weapon, I'd decided. What Denis Washington couldn't see…was a good thing.

"Suze?" Paul knocked, sounding more than a little exhausted.

After last nights episode, Paul had suggested we all sleep in three joining rooms- for safety's sake. I hadn't protested too much, knowing that in the end I'd be terrified left alone on some far deserted wing of the house.

"Yeah?"

"Decent?" How very uncharacteristic of him to ask.

"Yeah- its unlocked."

He stepped in- there were deep, swollen circles like dark bruises spreading under his eyes, his mouth worn and tired- blue eyes lacking their usual shine.

"Up all night?" I observed.

"Well, maybe I don't want to be a sitting duck when he wakes up." He snapped.

"Don't be grumpy, Slater." Jesse breezed in the door, clearly at ease.

"Paul's scared of the big bad wolf." I muttered. "He stayed up all night."

"Relax," Jesse smiled a little too brightly, "I'm here to protect you too, honey."

Paul responded with a particularly rude hand gesture.

I rolled my eyes, "So, children, what are we going to do?"

"I was thinking about it last night," Paul said, regaining some of his normal composure, "Its possible to speak with this bigger power through the spirit in the basement- our ability to communicate with it, remember, is much stronger than his."

"And just tell it to go away? Simple as that?" I finished dubiously.

He shrugged. "Its worth a try, don't you think?"

Jesse objected immediately, "I don't want her anywhere near that thing."

Remembering the horrifying childlike, murderous ghost lurking in the depths of the manor- I shivered. I didn't much like the notion either.

"Simon, listen to me." Paul said calmly, "We're not going to get any other shot at this. There's no other options left- he uses us, or he kills us."

"Or, I can go warn Father Dom and we can find a logical way to evacuate the situation." Jesse said, voice rising. "A few adults involved to keep you out of this suicide."

"Suze," Paul spoke clearly, eyes urgent, "My uncle isn't going to allow us to leave, no matter who is sent to help."

I closed my eyes, trying to find some way to calm my fear and to decide what was right.

"Susannah!" Jesse's voice rang out indignantly, "Surely you're not considering this! This is Paul Slater we're listening to- he's sadistic. He hardly knows whats in your best interest."

"Are you finished speaking for her?" Paul asked smoothly. "Let her decide for herself."

"But-"

"Are you saying that she's is too irresponsible to handle her own affairs?"

"That is _not_ what I-"

"Shh." I frowned. "I think…"

Both eyes were fixed on me expectantly, each sure of their victory.

"As hard as it is I think Paul's right-" The words tumbled out of my mouth so fast I could scarcely hear myself. "I don't think he'll let us go- we should prepare for the worst."

"I know we can do something else than get involved," Jesse insisted.

"Suze and I are all but pawns, on the sidelines of the game, but in position for him to start using us. If we come up from behind and weaken the king, we have a better chance than just sitting around." Paul said thoughtfully. "And we have one more small advantage."

"And that would that be what, exactly?" Jesse scoffed.

"We have an invisible knight." Paul said simply. "You."

"I just said I don't want to get involved."

"Well as long as you don't mind leaving Suze to fend for herself."

Jesse sighed. There was a long stretch of eternity.

"Say it." He finally said, turning to face Paul, square in the eyes.

"What?" Paul's infuriatingly reoccurring carved smirk appeared.

"Say," Jesse smiled wickedly, "That you need me."

Paul rolled his eyes. "hardly."

"You do, though, you just said it."

"You are useless, after all." Paul shrugged. "I simply meant we have a random factor on our side."

"Slater, you're- what is it that they call it? Screwed…" His words smoldered with confidence and suave. "Without my help. And unless you ask for it, you're not going to get it."

Paul laughed bitterly. "The only thing I've ever asked for, we're still fighting over. Nothing else."

"True." Jesse smiled. "And chances are I'm never going to give it up- but I might help you with this futile plan…if you ask."

"Jesse, this is stupid- you know he's not going to grovel." I snapped.

"I'm not asking for that. I'm requiring a question in place of an order- or an assumption."

"Paul, swallow your pride," I said irritably, "Ask him to help us and lets go talk to this damn ghost thing that's been haunting my nightmares—I'm _so_ looking forward to it."

Paul grinned, white teeth flashing against his deep tan. "You think you've got me all figured out." His eyes fixed on mine, he continued, "You're wrong." And without turning to actually look at Jesse, he literally struggled through the barrier of his pride, never ceasing his gaze on me. "We need you , Jesse de Silva, would you prefer me to get on me knees or will you help us?"

"Its phrased strangely," Jesse hesitated mockingly, "But since it sounded like a question, I'll take it."

And with that little piece of ego war settled, we continued on to the basement.


	19. A Treat for the Pretty Little Thing

"I knew you'd be back," The voice greeted us coolly, a wet ribbon slithering through the damp air. It smelled like the dust rising up out of ancient dictionaries, mixed with the sickly sweet smell of rotting flower petals. It filled my nose and shot bullets of fear through my stomach. My heartbeat punched holes in the darkness.

I closed my eyes tight, insides curling up like a pale grub beneath the dead weight of a stone. "This is nuts."

Jesse moved in beside me, and I caught the slightest scent of him- and suddenly my skin stopped bristling on my bones, and my heart stopped trying to escape. He was there. I wasn't alone. I found his hand, fingers numb, familiar with the way our palms fit together.

"We are enlisting your help." I heard Paul's voice say sharply, and I jumped- he was so close.

"Oh, a favor for the pretty couple," The sexless voice hissed, the high lilt of a child's lisp.

"That's right." Paul replied. "But we're not asking for a favor."

"What for, then?" The thing giggled.

"I want you to cut off from Denis Washington." Paul said coolly, the darkness around us humming softly. _It's all around me, its enveloping us_- I breathed in the black, and felt it cling thickly to the interior of my lungs. It was so claustrophobic, there were no walls, only this terrible energy, pressing in tighter and tighter.

"Ah," The thing sighed, echoing all around us in a chorus of mockery. "If only I could separate from Denis as easy as you so blatantly command."

"Can't you?" Paul asked. Jesse shifted beside me and I blinked in the black- I'd nearly forgotten his hand in mine. I looked down to where our fingers would be interlocked, wondering at the simple comfort. I knew I should release my hold, but I was filled with the small whimpers of animal fear- and the whispers of terror made their way down my skin, seeping into my fingers and keeping them locked tight around his.

"I only wish," The thing's oily voice was filled with quiet bemusement. "But I cannot break the bond that your uncle has made with The Soul."

"The Soul, what is that?" I heard myself ask fiercely- I'd heard that name before- in some shadowy crevice of a dream or some unconsciously heard whisper.

"The Soul comes soon to the call upon Denis Washington's soul," The thing mused, "It comes in exchange. For Denis Washington's spirit in return, The Soul will assist in the destruction of the boundary between humans and ghosts. I am one of its thousand grandchildren. Denis has harnessed me and tethered his leash so that I may communicate with The Soul for him. Once The Great One comes, Washington may begin his war."

"He wants to get rid of the boundary between humans and ghosts-" Paul began.

"What war?" I interrupted impatiently. "War with who?"

"The final war is coming. Darkness wishes to embody the light- Denis Washington will finally allow the spirits of the dreamland to inflict violence on humankind. Soliders invisible to their victims- but easily as violent. Soldiers that can melt through walls and listen to the most private of conversations." The thing sounded bored, as though listing a grocery list. "Power is important to you imbeciles. Denis Washington will devour the flesh of the universe and still be hungry."

I was shocked into silence.

Paul was never.

"He wants to use ghosts as his army?" He repeated dubiously. "That's crazy."

"Crazy as ABC, 123, that's how easy it can be-" It broke into hysterical laughter.

Call me mirthless, but I didn't understand that particular sense of humor.

"He wants to allow ghosts to physically touch and speak to humans?" I finally whispered.

"Mmm," It snickered, "Delicious isn't it?"

" Perfection." Paul snapped. "And How does my brilliant uncle plan to control all these legions?"

"That's where you come in, the puppeteers in the worlds greatest battle," It whispered. "As mediators between the dead and the living, you two will be able to control the earth's spirits- once The Soul teaches you how. Generals in Washington's army."

"Ha. Good luck with that." I growled. "We're leaving. Now."

"Not without my treat!" It wailed.

There was a short silence-

"Treat?" I asked, unsure.

"That delicious soul you brought!" It moaned. "I answered all your questions."

"Excuse me?"

"The SPIRIT you have with you," It squealed.

"Its begging for me- I can smell it here," The thing pleaded. "Let me have it. I'll be quick."

"JESSE?" I realized.

"Its aroma fills the room," It whimpered, "I gave you what you wanted."

"So," Paul said in the darkness, "Suze?"

"Are you even CONSIDERING this?" I demanded.

Jesse muttered, "Of course he is, its even better than him getting rid of me himself."

"It wants to eat him!" I cried. "Are you nuts?"

"Not entirely. Clearly its not going to be happy unless we feed it." Paul pointed out.

"As if I give a damn," I retorted. "End of discussion."

Paul sighed. "Its always worth weighing the options."

"Sorry," I spoke up, louder. "We'll, uh, let Denis feed you, kay?"

"But I'm so _hungry_," It moaned. "And Denis won't allow me to eat _living _flesh."

Skin crawling, I felt adrenaline course through my veins, nausea overwhelming me.

"**Lets go."**


	20. Frozen hell, Blackened Light and Paul

"I think that it was a reasonable suggestion," Paul countered calmly, "We want this thing on our side." Laying back against the ostentatious red silk couch, he fed himself a grape.

"Jesse's not an object of barter." I growled, settling more comfortably in the chair. The warmth of the room and the glow of the candles made it harder to remember the terror we'd just experienced.

Paul shrugged. "He's an old man whose been dead for about a hundred or so years- and I'm sure Jesse wouldn't mind taking one for the team."

"Thanks, I'm flattered by the value you place on me, but I'm not very substantial," Jesse said wryly. "Unlike you, Slater, who have plenty to chew on.""

"Nothing is going to be _chewing _on anyone!" I snapped. "Stop it!"

They both sighed.

"Now, is Washington still unconscious?"

"Nope," Paul closed his eyes lazily. "I checked where we locked him- disappeared. He's bound to show up any minute now."

I swallowed the shards of fear in my throat. "Great. So what are we going to do about it?"

"There's a fifty percent chance he's figured out we're useless in his plan, and he'll kill us- or, he'll keep trying to use us."

Something fell softly- and the silence seemed louder, falling in around us as though it were straining for every mellow sound we made.

"Can he hear us right now?" I asked quietly, glancing around.

He hesitated. "Naturally he has control over his entire house," Paul admitted. "I'd forgotten to think about that."

"What else are we managing to forget?" I demanded. "And how are we supposed to plan anything if he's got physic listening power everywhere?"

"Well, I guess we can't." Paul said flatly. "We're going to have to assume he hears everything."

"Perfect." I rolled my eyes. "Is there anywhere you think he's not able to spy on us?"

"Well, there's the library," Paul said dubiously, "Which is my best guess only because he's the only one allowed in there- so I doubt he would set ghostly magic to eavesdrop on himself."

"Well that's a start. But, uh, whats so special this exclusive library?"

Paul shrugged. "He s_aid_ it was a library. Clearly I've never seen it so it could be anything."

I sighed. "So we get in there so we can talk without him listening in. But what's our objective anyway? I mean is our goal to get out of here? Or defeat whatever the hell it is he's doing?"

"Are you even asking this?" Jesse demanded. "The reason I came is to get you out of here as soon as possible."

Paul was silent.

"So we just leave?" I bit my lip. "And let him do this?"

"Uh oh," Paul rolled his eyes. "Always the do-good fetish."

"I don't know," I ignored him, "We're the only ones in place to stop him."

"We have to weaken him to get out of here- that's technically impeding the process." Jesse pointed out.

"Maybe," I sighed. "Paul, besides being sickened at my possession of a moral compass, what do you want to do?"

"The great Susannah is actually asking my opinion." He mused. "I need to savor this moment."

"Moment over," I decided, "I take it back. Now- I say we stay and fight this."

"I say there's no way I'm going to let you put yourself in harm's way." Jesse crossed his arms and a muscle jumped up near his cheekbone. I knew that look well. It was one of total determination. Impassible stubbornness.

"Jesse," I complained, "You can't control me, we've had this discussion."

"You don't know whats good for you querida," He said softly, "Despite myself, I have to agree with Slater- you're letting your conscious get in the way of saving your life. This isn't a game- this is a powerful man in a very toxic situation- please listen to me."

"I am," I insisted. "I hear you. I just know that we can do this."

"You're coming with me." He stated again solemnly.

"I have a brilliant idea," Paul piped in sarcastically, "We get to a safe place before we start spilling out the master plan."

I frowned.

It was one of those rare instances in life, when Paul Slater was actually right.


	21. Chasing Impulse

"This gets more brilliant all the time," I mumbled. "We're searching for a library, which probably isn't even a library, that only Denis Washington has access to, that you've never even seen before."

"It's not too late to leave," Jesse said hopefully, instantly categorizing my sarcasm as a strike towards surrender.

Paul blinked at him lazily through those long thick lashes, smirking, before turning to me, serious once more."I know the general direction, I've seen him disappear around this corner…"

I sighed. "Even if we do find it, he has to have it safe-guarded Paul. It's not going to just swing open wide. And then, if it's not a library, it could be another holding cell for a creep like the one downstairs."

"If I didn't know any better, I'd say Susannah Simon was giving up on her own plan." He smiled, crookedly smug. "You do realize it was your decision to stay?"

"Yeah," I said sharply, "But the whole find a safe place thing isn't working out. AND he probably knows we're looking for it now, because he HEARS _everything _apparently."

"Your negativity is irritating me," He said flatly, "Quit talking please."

I glared at him, "Let's think about this for a minute. You irritate me all the damn time and I can't ever get you to shut up."

"Do you mind?" Jesse said quietly. "The constant friction between you two is exhausting."

"Not even," Paul grumbled, "She's refuses to engage in my kind of friction."

"You're disgusting." I snapped.

He studied me for a moment, before something in his eyes flashed and suddenly his sure expression was back in place. "Then kiss me."

"The hell?"

"Slater-" Jesse warned.

"If I'm as disgusting to you as you say, then it wouldn't be a risk at all. If you're not worried about how much you like it when we kiss, then why are you always so dead set against it?"

"Because we _hate eachother Paul."_

His eyes narrowed. "Yeah, that's right. Almost as much as we love eachother."

"Dios mio- shut up! Both of you," Jesse turned, and in his black eyes I saw a rage I wasn't expecting to find there. "She has chosen neither of us, and as far as I'm concerned, that's not going to change as long as I can help it. I'm not alive for her the way she needs, and you, you're not even human enough," He spit, his inky irises flashing. "I'm tired of hearing about this delusion of yours, it doesn't exist. Now, if you please, let's find this place so we can figure out how to get the girl you supposedly love out of the hellhole you've managed to drag her in to."

"Well, Zorro, you don't have to worry your pretty little head any longer," Paul sneered, "Looks like I found the solution to our little puzzle."

He stepped forward, pushing his body weight into a small gray slab of blank, unpainted wall. Had I been paying attention before, I would have noticed what he'd obviously seen- a halo of crimson red fanning out from the space, a humming, live energy.

But despite Paul's efforts, it didn't budge. He scowled.

"I told you," I began- but as the words left my mouth, the wall began to shift, contorting, the gray material twisting slowly, but surely, into the twisted skull of a man.

Jesse made the sign of the cross.

I stared aghast.

It's blank gray eyes moved to us, it's mouth opening slowly, as if it were yawning. Paul stepped closer, his eyes narrowing, just as pure, stygian sable poured out of it's stretched lips, instantly swirling around us.

The inhuman laughter screamed from the misshapen skull, and whispers of indescribable horrors began to slither their way through the air, dancing along the misty current. I shot Paul a look, though he didn't catch it. I knew it. Another creepy demon thing.

This time, the voice was lower, smooth, pleasing to the ears, but ringing with a quiet deadliness, a sharp bloodied knife beneath a cool façade. "You wish for entry?"

"No," I said, just as Paul asserted a confident, "Yes."

"Then you must pass through me."

"I don't know how I'm supposed to fight with a head encased in a wall. Sorry." Paul shrugged dismissively.

"Not a fight," It corrected, "You must try to truly pass through me, to travel through my soul."

"Okay, what's the catch?" Jesse demanded. "What kind of horrors does that entail?" I could feel his eyes flicker to look at me worriedly, but I refused to look back.

"If you fail, you become a part of me. If you survive, you may pass."

"How do you fail then?" I asked.

"It's rather simple, really," It sounded so mild, so appealing, it sounded like the voice of a politician, smooth and pleasing to the ear. "There are two obstacles. The first being the horrors, my essence if you will." The pale skull in the wall smiled. "The second is temptation, it's the energy that draws the flesh I consume. If you give in to the temptation, you lose your soul to me. That's really the only obstacle."

"Dennis does this every time?" Paul asked wryly. "I somehow doubt it. There's an easier way through this."

"Dennis Washington imprisoned me," It hissed. "I'm in bondage, a slave to his power. He created this test, made me the only passable way through the wall. He created the rule, so therefore he doesn't apply." It snarled, clearly unhappy at the thought.

"He's seemed to got this all figured out." Paul sighed. "Well, that's the only way in?"

The thing smiled again, and I shivered violently. Jesse touched my elbow, studying me in his ever-present concerned stare. I could still see the love behind it, the way his eyes softened when I looked back at him. I swallowed hard and focused on the demon once more. The way he looked at me never failed to weaken my resolve, and right then, my love life was definitely low priority. Despite what Paul seemed to think.

"Yes, it's the only way," The thing said, slightly gleeful. I frowned, couldn't help noticing that it didn't seem at all even concerned that there was a possibility we'd make it past it. That kind of confidence was not a good sign.

"Very well then." Paul shrugged, and walked straight into the wall, disappearing instantly into the material.

"Paul-" I screamed, staring wide eyed. Jesse started beside me, shocked.

The demented skull twisted, slowly sucking the black inky mist back in through it's nostrils. It began to fade back into the blank slab,

Winking at me just before it disappeared.


	22. We've Only Come This Far

Staggered, I stared at the blank wall with a dizzying sense of sudden loss.

"Shit."

"Susannah," Jesse looked at me, "Surely you understand we have been putting our lives on the line in the company of a madman."

"Paul's always been fucking messed up, the problem is he's not stupid." I leaned forward, resting my forehead against the now smooth concrete, closing my eyes. "So we have to guess what he was thinking, and what we do now."

"How are we supposed to get into the head of Paul Slater?" He shook his head, inky black curls falling over his eyes. "It's like trying to understand the devil."

"Yeah, I know, but we have to try." I said urgently. "Whatever's on the other side is important, or we wouldn't be here. He was just trying to get through—but its not like he can just open it from the other side." I stared hard at the blank slab before me. "So he either has to come back for us, or we have to go in."

"Or he failed the clearly impossible obstacles and we're wasting out time here."

I hesitated "I don't think he would have done it if he wasn't sure he could."

"You saw that thing. You go through torture and temptation in there. He may get through the pain, Susannah, but I can't see him resisting true temptation."

I shook my head, and said quietly, "He's never been Adam. Always the snake."

"He's entirely self-centered. If that thing offers him what he wants…"

"In the end, if he gave in, he'd be the property of _that thing_ forever. That wouldn't serve his self interest in the end, and he knows the consequences." I looked hard at Jesse. "I'm not trying to defend his character, here, but either way, I think we have to try to go in."

"I can't let you do that," He said solemnly, "Your parents, Father Dom, they're not here to protect you against all this- you cannot risk your soul to get into some secret laboratory here. It's ridiculous."

"Listen Jesse, we're trapped on the inside of Dennis's plan, no one else can get in. We're in the most danger, yeah, but we're closest to the heart of the problem, and if we act fast, we may be able to kill this before it get's too big for us to control. You said you'd support me, and this is one of the things we need to do. I need your help. I need your support right now." I hoped I sounded convinced, I certainly didn't feel that way. Jesse's words, coaxing me out of danger, trying to protect me, felt like a welcome surrender to the horror I was trying to talk myself into. But we needed to do this. Paul was in there already, and even if he didn't make it…even if he didn't make it- the thought jarred in my mind and I closed my eyes, wishing the sudden discomforting thought away.

Jesse was staring at me. "I…" He sighed. "I really wish you would listen to me. But I see that no matter what I say, you're going to continue on this path. And I won't try to stop you anymore. But I…I can't do this, anymore. You don't want me here, and I'm sick of watching you walk yourself into danger alongside the boy we once agreed was the closest thing to inhumanity, and I don't want to have to watch this disaster."

I felt my voice go small. "So you're leaving."

He nodded. "I think I should go home and warn Father Dom about what is happening here. Maybe we can help from the outside, but I don't think it'd be possible to come back again, so…" He closed his eyes, swallowed, and opened them again, those smoldering black eyes I used to drown in. Jesse…I felt his name on my lips- "So I wish you good luck. Please, for me, you must promise me you'll come back home to me alive."

I swallowed the last syllable of his name in my throat, and stepped forward, hugging him so hard that had he had the ability to breathe I would have eliminated it. "I'll always love you," I said in his ear, and blinked away the tears in my eyes. "I'm sorry about everything."

"You need to discover something for yourself right now," He spoke softly, still holding me to him. "I understand that. But once you find it, I hope you realize that I'm here, and that I'll always be waiting for you Susannah."

I nodded, and stepped away, ignoring the sudden clench in my chest at the separation. "Goodbye Jesse," I said quietly, and looked down.

And when I glanced up again, he was gone.

I hardened my heart, closed my eyes, and turned to the wall. "Let me in," I spoke clearly in the dim light of the hallway.

It's face appeared, and smiled at me grimly. "So, you want to give it a try then?"

I didn't reply. I just tipped my body weight forward, willing myself to face whatever lay inside, and let myself fall straight into darkness.


	23. The Not So Sweet Escape

"Susannah," His voice was the first thing I heard. I opened my eyes, to find an infinity of wildflowers, blushing shades of dusk's purples, emerald green and cobalt blue. Fireflies lit the spaces between the slim green stems, darting here and there like tiny auras in the night sky. The air was alive, humming a bold vibrancy, that pulsated in the swollen buds of the flowers and in the pupils of his eyes, the blue of the sky. "You're so infuriatingly beautiful."

I looked over at him, and there he was beside me, something dark and beautiful and embittered in my perfect fantasy. Silently, I took his hand, and he looked down at our interlocked fingers with a mixture of surprise and satisfaction. "Why is it that everything between us is a cognate of infuriation?" I heard the defeat, the sadness in my voice, and from his eyes I could see he'd heard it too." Why is it that anger is all we are?"

He smiled, but it was a bitter shadow of a smile. "Because we're not the type of people who'd be happy if we got what we wanted most. There's something in us that knows that."

I sighed, and leaned my head into his shoulder. He let out a surrendering exhale, before he moved, wrapping his arm around me, kissing the top of my head, he rested his chin above it, and I closed my eyes, swallowing the aching lump in my throat at the way we fit together like we'd been designed with that in mind. "I don't think we're happy this way either."

"But there's the game," He said quietly, "We keep eachother going."

"It just hurts, now." I said flatly. ""It just feels like we're just impersonating how we used to be. It doesn't feel real anymore, Paul. This is forced."

"Don't you get it?" He asked bitterly. "It'll destroy us. We'll destroy eachother. If we get what we want, we'll destroy it because that's who we are. If we allow this to happen, it'll obliterate itself."

"Then let me go, Paul. This game is sick, it's just how fucked up we are projected in eachother."

"I can't." He said flatly. "It'll always be like this. It'll always be me after you, it'll always be the same. I can't let myself be happy, but I couldn't possibly let you be happy with anyone else. It'd kill me."

"You're fucked up." I said, wiping away the tears running down my face., pulling away from him "Fuck you, How can you even say that out loud?"

"Because it's the truth." He said, his face expressionless. "You're the same way, you know. If you let yourself have me, you couldn't live with the fact that you belong to someone like me, that you could be consumed by the magnitude of what we have. It's too much."

"And what about you? That doesn't make sense. You can't let yourself be happy? You can't give yourself what you want?" I was so angry, I was spitting the words at him.

"No." He said. "I can't."

"Why?" I tried to keep my voice level, but the emotions were burning under my skin, the real words were digging into my tongue and searing my mouth. I was going to burst, I was going to shatter, I was going to implode.

"Because," He said, and I hated the calm of his voice. "That's who I am. I just can't let myself be happy, Suze. I can't have what I really want."

"Why?" I demanded. "That's not an answer. Why?"

He was silent, and with one fluid motion I slapped him hard across the face, the sound ringing in the air like ripples from a stone, expanding slowly until the impact stretched out all around us, trapping us inside its rings.

He looked down as I struck him, and caught my hand, holding it there. After a moment, he looked up, and in his eyes I saw so much, there was so _much_, it took my breath away.

His voice broke as he finally said,

"Because my entire existence is the embodiment of emptiness, and if you filled that, I would cease to be- I'd lose me. And so would you. This is the temptation, Suze, you and me. And we can't ever give in."


	24. The Fall

"I'm going to go insane here," He told me, in my ear, his hands held mine, locked together we dangled our feet off the edge of a crumbling cliff, the rocks tumbling down into the churning ocean.

I closed my eyes, waiting for it to end, for our fragile tower to finally collapse below us. I was ready to fall back into oblivion, it was the waiting. The waiting.

"It won't last long," I told him shakily, terror pumping through my veins. The stars, the moon, they were disappearing rapidly into the inky sky. It was coming. The rocks groaned below us, and a few more shook out from our weight, tumbling with abandon into their free fall. Soon the twilight would finally go out like a candle and we'd fall into darkness.

He turned my face to his, and kissed me hungrily.

And finally the stars blew out, and our leaning spire finally released us into the air. Spiraling, the air blew up against my body, filling every hollow, every crevice, I was filled with the sea and the salt and pure oxygen.

He let go of me instantly.

Maybe it wasn't anything to him, after all.

Psychopaths do not care about anyone, I remember thinking as the air whipped around my face, my hair tugging against my scalp, trying to escape, it whipped up behind me with a life of its own, like a flame flickering in the darkness.

I'd never be able to forget.

I felt water slap back against my eyelashes, the tears sliding up backwards into my eyes, I squeezed my eyes shut and released my body, letting the currents lash and twist my limbs around eachother limply, I tumbled into numbness.

You left me alone in the dark,

Like I always thought you would.

I always knew we had to give up,

But I never thought you'd let me go so soon.


	25. The Final Test

"You're mine," It snarled in my ears.

Blood, blood was everywhere, black and crimson, it flooded through the black water, I tasted in in my mouth, salty and sickly sweet it choked through my nostrils and filled my lungs.

I gasped, choking through the current, I tried to move away.

Slow, hard breathing filled the water, the pounding of a single heart, it beat like a drum in the water, shaking the tide with each pound,

It was silent,

It was screaming with blood,

Not silence,

Silenced.

I twisted around, a sudden high ringing filling my ears, a high, keening sound of a wailing, sickly child.

My hands filled with mottled flesh and dark stained blades, it cut through my skin as my fists unconsciously squeezed against the rusted edges with surprise.

My blood, a vivid red, flowed out of my palms like red sand in a desert storm, it mixed with the crusty bits of hardened blood and rust floating around me.

I opened my mouth and screamed.

"Don't cry, don't cry," A thousand whispers corused, and icy, blue hands all shot out of the redness, all pulling me down, covering my every inch, they groped at my every free centimeter, all desperate for warmth, I could feel the brittle bones breaking in their fingers as they fixed onto me.

"_PAUL_!" I screamed.

And I was alone.

A ghostly white light sifted down through the black waters, and I turned to look up towards it.

White, like white petals strewn together with silk and lace, fanned out around pale, unmoving legs, like bloodless waxen doll limbs, it slowly sank down, further and further, that greenish-milky light fanning out around it like a halo.

It fell limply before me, until I could see arms, and a neck, and a bald, drained ashen skull. It's arms, emaciated and anemic, floated before it, towards me, its fingers stretched out towards my face. It's skull, still nodded down, colorless and translucent, I could see the blue veins spanning under it like a spidery pulsing web.

It's fingers touched mine, slowly, and I felt a jolt, but I could do nothing,

I choked in the water, struggling against my own body,

Which stood paralyzed.

Slowly, the head rose up on it's shoulders, bending back into it's own neck, it twisted, swiveling slowly…

The chin, finally, almost hardly at all at first, started to drift up, with the current, the water pulling it up, in by inch,

With a jolt,

Dark eyes opened,

Fringed with festering, filmy lashes-

Wide.

It was me.

That thing was-

I screamed until I choked on blood and salt,

And blackness claimed me.


	26. You Were Right Doesn't Change A Thing

"Suze…."

"Suze?"

I snapped awake, gasping for air my heart hammered in my chest and my vision danced before me, I reached out- grasping for something- anything.

I felt cold fingers-

I screamed, and scratched, I kicked- my foot finding a hard, secure spot, I pushed- hard.

"Ooof."

I felt a wall to my back and I wrapped myself around my knees, face buried, I sobbed, praying that it wouldn't come back for me.

"Dammit Suze!" I heard the thing wheez. "Was that necessary? I'm going put my hospital bill on your tab with all the injuries you've caused me."

I shook, trying to regain myself, was I all here? Did it take me?

I was terrified, terrified to open my eyes, to face whatever may lay in front of me.

I felt fingers, once more, on my face, and I shrank away, but they were insistent- and, warm, warm this time, they coaxed my face up.

"You made it through. There's no use hiding, you're okay. You're here." He said coolly, his words cutting smoothly through the air. "Besides, I think you're going to like what I found." He added smugly.

I knew that touch, I knew that smell- that sarcastic tone.

I opened my eyes.

He was studying me, his icy blue eyes intent on mine, when my gaze met his, something in his stare grew sharper, more alive- it sent a shiver down my spine.

There was a question there.

I said shakily. "I'm okay."

He nodded silently, and sighed. "What was yours?"

"What do you mean?" I asked, my voice breaking. I felt as though my limbs were foam, compressing with my weight, softly melding into the shape of the floor beneath me.

"Your temptation." He said impatiently. "It's horror."

I blinked. "I thought you were there with me."

He blinked back, the bright of the blue beneath his lazy black lashes bright, vivid, like twilight against the outline of pine branches.

"You were there, for some of mine." He said. "But, I assumed that our…experiences, were separate."

I hesitated. "We had a really long conversation, I guess. About…you said we couldn't be together. That you're empty, and you need me, but if we gave in to eachother, we'd destroy one another."

His brows furrowed, his jaw tightening. "That's…I wasn't. That wasn't me."

"But it's true, isn't it?" I whispered softly. "You told me you can't let yourself be happy, because you'd lose yourself."

He stared at me.

"What else did I say?"

"You can't let yourself have me, you won't ever let me go."

"And?" He was looking at me with the strangest expression on his face.

I looked down, hearing his words, that look in his eyes over again, it took my breath away, it squeezed, hard, in my chest.

"That's all. You just told me that I'd destroy you. That I'm what you want, but that'd I'd destroy you. You just kept saying you were empty. Hollow. That by being happy it'd ruin us both."

There was that terrible silence, hanging between us like a curtain, I suddenly felt as though we were thousands of miles apart.

"You always said that I'm psychopath." He said suddenly, quietly. "Did you ever know you were right?"

"What do you mean?" I asked slowly, trying to absorb all the various emotions shooting through me all at once.

"From the time I was five, I've been in about six different psychologist offices. Therapy since I was four." He smiled grimly. "It's the magic of having money. You can pay people to tell you what's wrong with your kid when you screw them up. The technical names they come up with to define common day bullshit are just a field of brilliance all their own."

"but," I said slowly, "they ended up calling you a psychopath."

"They painted it in prettier terms for my parents." He shrugged. "I imitate other people's reactions to things, brilliant acting- mimicry at it's finest. You're right, I am, as a being, completely selfish. Ultimately, other people aren't supposed to mean anything to me."

I stared at him, and the seconds ticked past slowly, some indescribable emotion bubbling up behind my eyes and in my fingertips, my toes and my temples.

"I knew it." I said, and my words felt a thousand miles away. "I always knew you weren't human, not really." I felt the lie in the core of my stomach, and I curled around it, trying to crush it within my ribs.

"Right." He nodded, mop of curls covering his palm as his rested his head in his hand. "So, that's why I can't seem to figure out why it is I'm in love with you."

"I've told you this before," I said quietly, squeezing my fists to my sides, feeling lightheaded, I was floating above the ground, hitting the ceiling, I was gasping for air that wouldn't come. "You want me because I make you happy. You're not, basically. In love with me I mean."

"Psychopaths wouldn't bother caring about anyone else." He told me matter-o-factly. "The fact that you make me happy, that I can even feel it…I'm not supposed to feel anything."

"You're going to hurt me," I said. "I can see it in your eyes when you're looking at me like that."

"You're the only thing I care about." He shrugged. "You're the only emotion I've ever felt for anything. It's always been about me. Now everything is about you. I can't promise that I'll never hurt you. By nature it's what I do. But I can promise I'll never leave you, and that I'll never let you go. I love you, that's never going to change."

"You told me, back there, that it'd always be like this. This misery of you chasing after me, but that we'd never allow ourselves to love eachother. And that makes a hell of a lot of sense to me. You being, I don't know, a medically proven psychopath just confirms it. You can't let yourself be happy, because that emotion in itself is alien to you, it's not natural. And it would change who you are. It would destroy us."

"Maybe, part of that is true," He told me. "But I'm alien, like you said, I feel nothing, I want nothing other than to satisfy myself. Psychological egoist. Narcissist. Psychopath. Those are all words than I've enjoyed playing with to define myself, and believe me, I've thoroughly enjoyed my freedom from all of humanity's petty emotions and ridiculous infatuations and conditioned kindness to others- but I do love you, Suze, and that has nothing to do with me. I'm fucking dead inside and you're the only thing that I feel. Do you understand that? And I'm addicted to it. I want you more than anything"

"You say you love me selflessly, that your love for me has nothing to do with selfish desires. If that were true, you would have let me go why I had a chance with Jesse." I snapped at him.

"If I thought that would make you happy." He said. "I always knew it wouldn't."

"You have no way of knowing that. I didn't even know that."

"No, you didn't. But I've known for a long time you've been in love with me too." He studied me intently. "It's crooked, it's twisted. I know that. But the fact is, is that the psychopath has fallen for the innocent. And that's a reality, and it's also our story, Suze. It's yours and mine. And it's always been."

"We've had this conversation a million times."

"Right," He smiled at me. "Except this time you can call me a psychopath, and you can know that it's completely accurate. And you can also know you're probably the only girl on the planet whose ever stolen a heart that wasn't there to start with."

"Best case scenario, we end up together-" I began.

"Basically, the only scenario."

"Paul."

He shrugged. 

"Best case scenario," I narrowed my eyes at him, before continuing, "And what? We live happily ever after?" A falsehood, a lie, even then, it felt like acid burning my tongue.

"Considering our relationship is a freak of nature against my basic foundation, the only happily ever after I'd ever share with anyone - it'd have to be with you."

"You're talking forever."

"It's impossible that I'd fall in love with anyone else."

"You'd probably never even love your own kids."

"Are you saying you want my kids?" He grinned wickedly.

"The opposite, really. If you actually ever stopped listening to what you want to hear."

"Well, you started talking offspring, here."

I rolled my eyes. "God, nevermind. You have the maturity of a five year old."

"Well, you're right, really." He looked away. "You're the only person I've ever felt anything for. And it's consuming. I don't know if that's possible…for me to love anything. Anyone. Else."

"Hm." I looked away, suddenly embarrassed. We really were talking as though spending the rest of our lives together was an option. Something about that was extremely uncomfortable and intense.

Too intense.

He rolled over. "Besides, I'm kind of done sharing you with anyone else."

"What? Kids? You're talking about being jealous of children."

He shrugged. "Well, it's just a thought."

"You're completely disgusting." I immediately drew away from him. "I don't know why we're even talking about this."

"Because, Suze," He said tiredly. "You're in love with me, and the likelihood is, even now that you know I'm sick and actually devoid of human emotions apart from you, that's not going to change."

I rolled over on to my stomach, tucking the blanket around my sides tighter.

"Fuck you."

"Please."


	27. Somewhere Over The Rainbow

I opened my eyes, into the same whitespace I'd fallen into.

Paul lay sleeping beside me, his face emotionless, as cryptic in sleep as it was during the day. I wondered what if he dreamed about, if there weren't any emotions coloring them. Maybe he had nightmares, maybe fear was a selfish emotion, to preserve yourself.

Yes, Paul probably had nightmares.

He probably also flew alone,

A joy entirely his own.

He probably jumped from buildings with the impulsivity of it.

He probably dreamed of entire universes,

Created masterpieces of self indulgence,

Shooting through the sky of darkness,

Burning straight through to the fuse,

He'd live all at once,

Streaming glory all the way,

Painting with blood like fingerpaint,

He'd set the world to fire,

No sadness, or love,

Nothing in his dreams,

But him,

And beautiful freedom.

I blinked.

Where were we?

There was truly nothing here,

But empty space and blinding light,

I stretched my hand out before,

Expecting it to disappear in the thickness of the whiteness,

But it stayed stretched out before me,

Completely bold in the bleached light.

I sighed.

"Paul…" I shook his shoulder. "Paul."

He opened one lazy eye, and grinned with that sideways slant, stretching his hands up behind his head, he yawned.

"Well, good morning."

"What do you dream about?" I asked quietly after a moment, watching him.

He cocked an eyebrow at me.

"Well, you of course, dear."

"I'm serious."

He shrugged. "I don't know- does it matter? I'm not really into the early morning analysis."

"How do you even know it's early? It's blinding in here." I grumbled.

He sat up, running a hand through his dark hair, he glanced around in mild amusement as though he were just noticing we were literally nowhere.

"I still haven't shown you the best part," He grinned wolfishly at me.

"Oh dear god." This can't be good.

"Don't be negative, you're just a few clicks of your ruby red slippers away from home," He sneered.

"What the hell are you talking about?"

"I found, the _solution_, to your little do good fascination."

"Don't act like it's just me." I huffed half-heartedly.

"It is, really. I'm just mildly curious at to how he pulled this all off."

"Well, now that you've satisfied yourself, would you mind putting your sociopathic arrogance to rest and actually get to the punchline?"

He smiled at me affectionately.

"It's more of a visual thing, believe me."

"Then _show me,_ okay?" I snapped impatiently.

He sighed mockingly, shaking his head, he grabbed my elbow, pulling me to me feet.

"Over here."

He started to walk off into the colorless abyss.

I hurried after him, running a hand through my hair.

What if I really could fix everything, and go home?

It'd been two weeks, and I was supposed to go home in less than another few to pack up my room for college.

Just thinking about reality, about school, a new start…

I hadn't had an access to a straightener or makeup for _days_. Much less a mirror.

Or a toothbrush.

I grimaced at what I might look like to anyone used to seeing my usual semblance, which is pretty much three thousand times better, thankyouverymuch. It was like those commercials where everything is hazy and washed out, until I wave my magic mascara wand, and all of the sudden- bam. There's the Suze we all know. And you know, don't think is hideously ugly and in need of a shower.

Father Dom, Jesse-

Jesse.

Fuck.

Even if I never ended up with Paul, I'm pretty sure things were permanently altered now between me and him.

He was my safe harbor, he'd always be there for me.

I just knew he'd probably never fully trust me again.

He'd always wonder what'd happened between Paul and I when he left.

Ughhh.

Maybe home isn't such a good idea after all, I thought grumpily.

"Here," Paul said, and stopped so suddenly, I fell slightly in to him, and he turned, holding me up by my waist, his eyes instantly flashing at the touch.

I straightened immediately, tucking my hair behind my ears, I took a step back. "Thanks." I said coldly.

And turned to face whatever his miraculous "solution" may be.

And nearly fell over.

A man, with a cracked, parched body and slick yellowed skin, pallid like bleached parchment, opened his mouth, and issued a very faint moan. Sitting belly-button high in a light, milky liquid, he had six or seven long needles feeding from exaggerated purple veins snaking up his arms like cracks in a windshield. His head was completely smooth and as thin as membrane, his lips opened slightly, he made another faint breathy sound, more of a sigh this time.

His eyes, staring foward,

Were blue.

Slater blue.

Icy and layered like a glacial cavity, they gleamed and shone with an alien beauty and intelligence,

Opened wide,

Denis Washington's hypnotic royal blue eyes

Were fixed on us.


End file.
